Anything but ordinary
by Monchy
Summary: AU. And then, he appeared. The old announcements that adorned the local's door called him Anakin, but ObiWan couldn't be sure that was his name. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Three series at a time! Oh my, I think I've lost it! But no, let me explain: I needed to write something fun. So this is going to be action, adventure, fun and sex and perhaps the tinniest bit of angst, but certainly not much. I've had it in my mind for a while now, and I felt like starting it. What I don't know is how fast I'm going to work on this, because I'm actually looking fordward finishing The lover and at the moment Under my skin is my baby, but I'm thinking I'm going to love this project just as much!

Anyway, to read this, you need to know this an AU setting. It's so AU it's not even in the Star Wars universe. So there, forget about lightsabers, speeders, space, Code, Jedis, Siths and all that, and bring in common clothing and guns. As for the characters that appear in the story and aren't human (such as Aayla and Kit) I just made a few changes, so they'll fit in this universe... I like to think it has kind of like a 'Sin City' feeling to it, but that might just be me.

Hope you like it!

Love

Monchy

* * *

**Anything but ordinary**

_Chapter I_

The smell was strong and unpleasant, but both men were so used to it that they were able to walk through the room without a grimace contorting their features. The walls of the place – and old factory in Coruscant's machinery district – seemed to be falling piece by piece, what had probably been shiny white paint broken almost completely to the point in whichit was an ugly brown. The floor, covered in simple concrete, produced an echo when meeting the steps of both men.

"He is the fifth one, the second this month," Mace pointed at the laying figure on the floor, burying both hands on his black jacket's pockets and looking away. It was the first time he saw one of the victims for real, and the pictures hadn't prepared him for such a cruel reality.

"Who is in charge of the case?"

"Kit. He should be arriving now, Luminara, too," Obi-Wan hummed in acknowledgment and walked towards the lifeless body, crouching to examine it closely. It had been years since he saw something like this.

He was a young man that couldn't be more than fifteen, naked, both hands and feet were tied and he was visibly tortured. The hair had been cut with no precision and the skin of his lips had been torn away. An ear was missing. It was an image that made him remember the reason he had quitted this job. Or at least one of them.

"Same pattern?" he asked, looking up at Mace.

"Same pattern. No prints, no clues, clean, fast, professional cuts," Mace sighed, shook his head. "He doesn't leave us a thing to work with."

"He?"

"Or she, as far as we now."

"Sexual aggression?"

"No, and no apparent motive either; no notes, he doesn't seem to have a purpose. Is the most mysterious case we've had in years."

"And what do you want from me, Mace?"

"You know, same as always," Obi-Wan stood up and Mace followed the movement with his eyes, shrugging. "Investigate a little, look at the pictures, help us. No compromise."

"Mace, you know I don't–"

"Do this anymore, I know. I know it's not your job anymore and that you're happy teaching kids at the university, but you're the best and we're desperate," Mace wished he could draw a pout to help his petition, but he just gave Obi-Wan his most desperate look, incapable of conjuring any other gesture. After all, he was the head chief of the Police Department and he had a reputation to maintain.

"No compromise?"

"No compromise, just give it a look," Obi-Wan shook his head, sighing. There were some things that were impossible to leave behind, and his old job seemed to be one of those.

"Alright, Mace."

"Good!" Mace widened his smile instinctively, "I'll make Luminara give you all the necessary information, you see each other at the university every day, right?" Obi-Wan nodded, looking at the lifeless body once again. This city was rotten. "Can I ask you one last favour?"

"Another one?" Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, adjusting his tie to the white collar of his shirt in a gesture born out of custom.

"You'll choke if you keep doing that," Obi-Wan just finished the movement, straightening then some wrinkles his long black coat had gotten from the continuous rain that consumed the city in this time of the year.

"That other favour…?"

"Oh yes, could you talk to Quinlan? See if he knows anything about this."

"Why don't you do that? He is a police's contact, not mine."

"He doesn't listen to me," Mace crossed his arms over his chest, repressing a sigh, "and he annoys me to no end."

"Sure, Mace, I'll talk to him."

* * *

"Long time no see," Quinlan left both beers on the table and sat on the chair that faced Obi-Wan's, a smile adorning his features, "anyone would say you don't have time for me anymore."

"What business do a professor and a bounty hunter have, Quinlan?" Obi-Wan leaned both elbows on the table, loosening his tie now that he was in a more casual environment. Quinlan always made him feel comfortable enough to loose the uptight professor look.

"Bounty hunter?" Quinlan arched an eyebrow, giving the yellow that covered part of his face a lighter colour for a few seconds. "You offend me, old friend," Obi-Wan laughed softly, watching Quinlan take a sip from his drink.

Quinlan was certainly the most extravagant character that surrounded him. It was true that Mace, the police chief, and Luminara, professor and head of the police forensics department weren't exactly normal either, but Quinlan definitely beat them all. His past was a mystery, so was the business that occupied him, but Obi-Wan knew he could trust him.

It had been Qui-Gon who had introduced them years ago, when Obi-Wan had been an idealist young man coming out of the academy and into the real world, and Quinlan… the same man he was now, just younger. To anyone who didn't know him, Quinlan was just a bounty hunter like the hundreds that lived in the city, but to the police he was their most loyal contact with the streets.

"So tell me, what motivated such an urgent call? Police business?" Quinlan sat back, looking around in him a way Obi-Wan had learned to like.

"You know anything about the murdered kids? Mace wants me to give it a look."

"Curious business that one," Quinlan got closer to the table in a confidence gesture born out of years of paranoia. Quinlan knew the streets, and he was aware that someone could be listening all the time. "A complete mystery, no one seems to know a thing and no one wants to talk about it… but I can investigate here and there if you want me to."

"Sure, Mace seems a little desperate."

"And why didn't he contact me before?" Quinlan leaned back again, a mockingly offended gesture on his face. Obi-Wan chuckled.

"I think you irritate him," Quinlan huffed and Obi-Wan widened his smile, fingers starting to tap unconsciously on the table, next to the bottle full of beer. "How are you, Quinlan?" Quinlan half smiled; Obi-Wan was one of the few people that genuinely worried about him.

"As always Obi, a job here, a job there, surviving," Quinlan shrugged, rescuing a cigarette from the pocket of his leather coat. "But I've lost Aayla definitely."

"Did you ever have her?" Quinlan smirked while he lighted his cigarette, inhaling strongly.

"No, I guess not. I think she's with Kit."

"Kit Fisto?" Quinlan nodded, and Obi-Wan took the tapping hand to the bottle, clutching it but not taking it to his mouth. "The case's his."

"Oh, cool. I bet they look good together, blue hair, green hair, a real match."

"Jealous?"

"Me?" Quinlan arched an eyebrow, pointing at himself, "of course not," Obi-Wan half smiled, "besides, I've got a new love now, don't know why I never noticed him before."

"Is it a him?"

"It's a him."

"And who's the lucky one this time?" Obi-Wan's voice was mocking, but Quinlan preferred to ignore him. Obi-Wan wasn't the only one who considered his seduction tactics a little bit excessive, after all.

"Mace."

"Mace? Are you out of your mind, Quin?"

"Of course not, Mace is in love with me, he's been for years," assured Quinlan, almost daring someone to deny the fact.

"Oh, really?"

"Sure, he just doesn't know it yet," Obi-Wan laughed, incredulous. "And what about you? Any cute student willing to do anything to get a better grade?" Quinlan wiggled both eyebrows.

"Please Quin, what kind of–"

"I know, I know, too much morality to do such a thing, right? Sincerely mate, you need to get laid," Obi-Wan huffed, slightly infuriated.

"What makes you think I'm not?"

"Just look at the way you're clutching the bottle," Obi-Wan looked at his hand, surrounding the bottle with firm fingers. He moved it away quickly, looking back at Quinlan, "you clearly need a quickie. I could–"

"Oh no, we're not going there," Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest, shook his head.

"We're not?"

"No."

"Ever?"

"I thought you were after Mace?" asked Obi-Wan this time, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, you're the first one on my list."

"I'm flattered, Quin, really."

* * *

The local was on the edge of the district that belonged to the prostitutes by right, close enough for the veterans to look for clients there, scantly clad in leather corsets and high heels while the pouring rain fell on their faces. Obi-Wan entered the place before anyone of them could spot him as a potential client.

Obi-Wan offered the guard a nod and walked towards his usual table without awakening a special interest on the rest of the clients: some regulars and some he had never seen, most of them bounty hunters and probably killers. Dex's was probably the classiest local around there, but the alcohol, the fast food and the spectacle always attracted the most vulgar people.

The little scenario the tables looked at didn't show strippers or live sex, as places like this used to do, but an entertainment that was sexual but not offensive. At that moment, a girl in a golden bikini danced to the rhythm of oriental music with as snake as only extra adorning; no one seemed to be paying her much attention, though.

"Hello, sexy," Obi-Wan looked up when the waitress approached his table, answering the common salute with a kind smile. "Same as always?" Obi-Wan nodded, and the girl walked away.

It had been Quinlan who had taken him there for the first time, infatuated as he had been with the waitress. Aayla Secura, a blue haired young woman who felt quite comfortable in tight leather clothing and who had the guts to face any man who made a pass on her had obsessed Quinlan for years, until now, it seemed. Of course, that hadn't stopped Quinlan from shagging anything that had motor skills, after all, and in his own words: 'I'm only human.'.

From the day Quinlan had brought him here, Obi-Wan had become a regular. He went to the local four nights a week, sat on the same table with a glass of whisky he never drank and waited for Mimi – the snake girl – to finish her show. Just like she was doing now. And then, _he_ appeared.

The old announcements that adorned the local's door called him Anakin, but Obi-Wan couldn't be sure that was his name, and he had never dared to ask. Anakin… he liked the way it sounded, anyway.

Said man appeared on the scenario then, and he seemed to attract all the looks Mimi hadn't gotten. Every night he appeared with a different outfit, a theme that was always ignored in favour of his deliciously swinging hips. This time he was wearing the one Obi-Wan had defined as 'the rocker', tight black leather pants, ripped in the right places, and nothing else.

Even if Obi-Wan closed his eyes, he could see the rip on his knee, the other one on his tight and the third one just where the leg became buttock, but why closing his eyes when seeing such a show? Naked chest covered in a light sweat cape, bare feet and hips moving to the sexy beat of the music.

Oh, those hips were the best part of his day.


	2. Chapter 2

**TM: **what inspired this? I really, truly don't know, but seemed like a good idea at the time! Oh, Indiana meets Grissom meets Robert Landong? That's a compliment. But yes, he had to go and watch sexy hips, the sexy hips are very important. Well, glad to see my madness is appreciated. Many hugs and love!

**Lincoln Six Echo: **oh, yes! I was dying to have professor!Obi somewhere. Glad you like it!

**Xtine: **I had the feeling you guys were going to like the idea of Ani beinga dancer (I'm quite fond of it myself), but I'm actually surprised that you all seem to see this little bit of Grissom in Obi. That's great! And yes, we all love Quinlan, no matter what (bloody show stealer that he is). Thanks! Hugs and love!

**Gizzi1213: **Glad you like this! Yes, Anakin's hips are definetely a great part of my days. Thanks a lot!

* * *

_Chapter II_

Before the dean could start one of his stories about a battle she had never heard of and in which she wasn't interested, Luminara stopped him with a soft smile and a penetrating look, announcing him in a tone that wouldn't take no for an answer that she had to meet with Obi-Wan urgently. To that, the dean just said his goodbyes and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Luminara had been the one to recommend Obi-Wan as a teacher for the university when he had left the police department, and that was maybe why everyone firmly believed that their friendship was actually something else. Seeing how that gave them an excuse to run away from all kinds of events and to avoid uncomfortable flirting from other partners, none of them had denied it.

Luminara walked down the hallway with slow steps, nodding sporadically to faces she recognized as students from her classes, and she stopped in front of the door marked with the words O. Kenobi. She knocked on the door softly and opened it, not waiting for an answer, just in time to see Obi-Wan's eyes look up and into hers. She smiled.

"Running away from the dean again?" asked Obi-Wan while Luminara closed the door behind her, her eyes rolling almost imperceptibly.

"Maybe," she said, sitting on one of the grey chairs that faced Obi-Wan's. She wondered briefly how many pupils had sat right there just admiring their teacher's eyes. "I actually came to bring you the reports on the case," Obi-Wan hummed in acknowledgment while she rescued some folders from her briefcase.

"Is this it?" Obi-Wan held the folders between his hands, surprised by their light weight.

"Yes. Reports, autopsies and interviews."

"Suspects?" Luminara chuckled bitterly.

"We don't have any of those, why do you think we decided to come to you?" Obi-Wan shook his head, falling on the back of the seat while Luminara crossed both legs and arms, cursing her decision of wearing skirt and heels in such a rainy day. "The interviews are quite useless, but I guess you could talk to Kit about that."

"He doesn't mind me looking at this, does he?" Obi-Wan had had far too many experiences with cops and the sentence 'this is _my_ case, Kenobi'.

"Kit is as desperate as Mace," murmured Luminara, changing her serious expression for a playful one. "Besides, now that he's in love he will appreciate any help he can get."

"Oh yes, I heard the news yesterday."

"Quinlan was so appalled."

"I think he has recovered already," Obi-Wan sighed, smiling then. "He has convinced himself that Mace has loved him for years, and has decided to make him realize it."

"You are kidding."

"Oh no."

"So when I heard Mace scream at Quinlan to respect his personal space it wasn't just Mace being his paranoid self," Luminara laughed softly; Quinlan was quite an amusing character. Obi-Wan smiled widely. "By the way," she started after a few seconds, "would you teach a couple of classes in my criminology course?"

"Criminology? What would I say?"

"Anything. The kids get bored, either that or they are afraid of me; the truth is most of them took the course for extra credit, so I guess it would be fun for them to have a real cop in class."

"But you are one," pointed Obi-Wan, raising a finger for emphasis.

"I just cut death bodies open Obi-Wan. They will have a good time with someone who has been there. Talk to them about… you know, chasing cars, bullets and bad guys; just a couple of classes, yes?"

"Alright," sighed Obi-Wan, "send me the schedule."

"This afternoon… now I better go or Mace will have a stroke," Luminara stood up, mentally cursing the rain. "I'll keep you informed about his upcoming romance with Quinlan."

"Oh, please do."

* * *

Obi-Wan leaned his shoulder on the doorframe and looked at both politicians with a frown between his eyebrows. He guessed the dean had had a good idea promoting a debate about education at the university, where not only journalists and teachers could listen, but also students, but that didn't make it any less boring. Obi-Wan wished he were a smoker so he could light an exasperated fag. He entertained himself looking around the room, noting the clear differences between the politics students, taking notes as if their lives depended on it, the journalism students, expecting a question round with anxious eyes, and the rest of them, probably dragged there by a friend. Those looked as bored as he himself was.

Perhaps he should just leave the place, but a sense of propriety kept him there, watching from the doorframe, even when nothing the governor said could interest him in the least.

Governor Palpatine had stepped on his place after governor Valorum had resigned by a general petition of the senate, which seemed pretty tired of his lack of action. Now, Palpatine was facing elections, ones Obi-Wan wished he didn't win. Padmé Amidala was strong competitor, indeed, but Palpatine counted with tricks and followers that will make him hard to take, especially while he had his–

"Well, if it isn't the detective turned professor," Obi-Wan turned his face around, frowning more determinately. Dooku.

"Dooku," he bit the name, wrinkling his nose and not worrying to hide his disgust. Dooku smiled, or at least he tried to, leaning against the other side of the doorframe and looking at both politicians.

Before getting his place as governor, Palpatine had financed the creation of a private security corpse to support his campaign, based as it had been on the city's security need. While Valorum had ruled, the mediocre members of Palpatine's police had been easily rejected by Mace, but when Palpatine had won and Dooku had announced himself the head of his police, the _real_ police had been laid in a second place, being forced to loose time in burocratic fights when the cases fell on the wrong hands. Obi-Wan was surprised they hadn't said a thing about the kids' case.

"I've heard Windu has been forced to beg for your wise advice once again, Kenobi," his voice surprised him, but Obi-Wan just shrugged, keeping his eyes on Amidala and his ears on her passionate speech. "I thought you didn't do this anymore. After all, what's the use of so many solved cases when the one you couldn't solve cost you Qui-Gon's life?" Obi-Wan fisted his hand, closed his eyes and focused on his own breathing. No. He wasn't going to let him provoke him.

"Goodbye, Dooku," he pressed his teeth together and took his steps to his office, leaving the other man behind.

"Coward, coward kitty."

* * *

Anakin looked through the window with an annoyed gesture between his lips. Was it always raining in this goddammed city? With a bit of luck the drops would have stopped by the time he left; otherwise, he would have to get wet – disadvantage of driving a motorbike instead of a car – and then Ms. Martin, would lecture him for wetting the hallway. Although he should probably be grateful, at least she talked to him, which was more than he could say from the rest of his neighbours.

He sighed.

"Mimi, your turn," Anakin looked at the girl when Aayla's voice crossed the door, and offered her a smile while she made the effort of putting her snake on her shoulders. Anakin found himself thanking that his hips were accessory enough to attract the clients.

With a dreamy gesture, he started thinking about what costume to wear. He wondered if his secret admirer, his knight in his shiny armour, had gotten wet while coming here today. Probably, he thought, he always is soaked when it rains, with his hair sticking to his forehead and his cheeks adorably flushed. Anakin sighed again, this time with a stupid smile between his lips. Finally, he decided to wear the cowboy costume: he knew it was his mysterious visitor's favourite.

Fifteen minutes later, wearing broken jeans, cowboy boots and hat and a lasso between his hands, Anakin stepped on the little place they called scenery. While he started his dance – an unconscious sequence of swings and thrusts of his hips, joined this time by the lasso – he saw his gentleman in his usual seat, leaving his drink forgotten in favour of his hips. There were tons of eyes on Anakin, but he had been dancing just for his attractive stranger for quite some time now. He felt tempted to throw the lasso and catch him, bring him to him, tied and at his mercy, but he just dropped the rope to the floor and allowed his hands to wander down his naked chest, caressing a nipple distractedly and insinuating with a final thrust. He got applauses; it had been a quite inspired act.

Once he had gotten a shower and had changed, Anakin sat on the bar, smiling when he saw the man was still there. He stayed sometimes, buried in his booth and not looking at him, but Anakin liked having him there, holding his glass with firm fingers. Anakin had a lot of regulars, but he was different. He was the only one who had never talked to him, who had never offered a lewd word or a warm bed, and he was the only one who looked like a nice person. He was a man who made him think of sex, hot, sweaty, steamy sex, but also of cuddling and smiles next to a welcoming fire. Anakin wanted it all, the sex and the cuddling and the smile. He had the most beautiful smile.

"Daydreaming again?" Anakin tuned his face around just in time to see Aayla put a beer in front of him. With a grateful smile, he took a long pull of his drink, feeling the cold liquid calm his dry throat. "Why don't you just go and talk to him?"

"It would break the spell," he smiled. Aayla snorted, drying some recently cleaned glasses and ignoring a client who seemed to think that his money gave him the right to touch her ass.

"What spell?"

"He's my stranger, my mystery. As long as he's there he can be a poet or a medieval knight, anyone I want," Anakin widened his smile when Aayla rolled her eyes.

"I could just ask Quinlan who he is, sweetie, he came with him the first time, but I really think you should do that yourself."

"I rather let it be."

"But it's not real, silly," Aayla caught one of his curls with a finger and pulled. Hard. Anakin batted her hand away.

"As real as I want it to be."

"You're falling in love with a shadow, baby. The reality is what it is, and you can't change that," Aayla returned to her initial position, drying glasses, and Anakin took a second sip from his beer.

"Oh, but reality is relative, right? What's outside the cave and all that."

"I didn't know you engineering students read Plato."

"Barriss forces me to go to the most boring courses," Aayla laughed softly, shaking her head.

"Why don't you send him a drink?" Anakin opened up his mouth, then closed it again. That wasn't such a bad idea.

"What does he usually have?"

"The question should be what does he usually _not_ have. Whisky, but he never drinks it; such a waste… you could try something more exotic, pina colada or daiquiri."

"I'm thinking a shot."

"A shot?"

"Yeah, tequila. And one for me too."

"Tequila? I like your style."

Anakin held the glass between his fingers once Aayla had left the barstool. When he turned his neck around, he found blue eyes with his and, raising his glass slightly, he drank the tequila while looking at his gorgeous man do the same, an amused twinkle in what now where green orbs.

When the man left the bar, Anakin decided that perhaps it was time of entering the cave.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**TM: **oh yes, it's so fun to work with the usual characters and drag them to this complete new universe in which you can open so many different possibilities. Anyway, thanks a lot, as always. I'm so gald you are enjoying this, luv! Thanks!

**Lincoln Six Echo: **oh, yes, there is a certain strange who just loves to stalk Anakin in all universes, right/wink, wink/ Glad you like this! Thanks!

**Phoenix Red Lion: **oh, who doesn't want a teacher who looks like Obi-Wan? I certainly do! Oh, well, I'm happy you're enjoying this. Thanks a lot!

**Xtine: **oh, trust me, the Plato references were only there because I'm taking this course on him and it was driving me nuts! Oh, yes, Dooku's is a bastard, but I'm glad I can work with him here a little, should be fun. Well, thanks! Glad you like this!

**Gizzi1213: **yes, engineering sounded just like the career for Ani. Oh, yes, whe will he meet professor Kenobi/wink/ Oh, I know the manip you're talking about, it's quite fun, Glad you're liking this! Thanks!

**Liv Naravul: **oh well, I'm glad you like it! Thanks!

Finally finished this! You guys are going to have to be patient with me, because I'm enetering the dreaded month of exams. But I'be got the last chapter of _The Lover_ almost finished, so I'll try to update as fast as I can.

Anyway, hope you like this!

Monchy

* * *

_Chapter III_

"So, any conclusion?"

Obi-Wan looked away from the pictures held to the board with bright yellow tape and took his eyes to Mace's, who was hiding a smile behind lips arched in a cryptic gesture. Behind him, seven or eight new agents looked at him with big expectant eyes and notebooks, expecting him to solve the case with a few obvious and fast deductions, as if they lived in a Sherlock Holmes novel. He should have known Mace was up to something when he had asked him to come down to the police office, but Obi-Wan had been easily tricked into this.

He repressed the sigh his lips were asking for and let his eyes wander past the small group and outside the room, from were Quinlan waved energetically and made lewd gestures and funny faces with the only purpose of making that little frown appear between Mace's eyebrows. Seconds later, when Luminara appeared behind Quinlan and smacked him in the head with a stack of rolled papers, the police chief smirked. Obi-Wan _had_ to get some new friends.

"Obi-Wan?" Mace's voice took him back to the present. Obi-Wan smiled, nodded, and made his best effort to ignore the girl who was opening one of her shirt's top buttons while caressing her cleavage in what Obi-Wan assumed was a coquettish manner. He couldn't know, he had always been clueless when it came to women and their tactics. He coughed.

"He is good," he murmured finally, looking back at the pictures, "he is very good."

"That we know," Mace crossed his arms over his chest and stared at him, a slight twitch threatening his left eyebrow. Obi-Wan understood it when he spied through the corner of his left eye Quinlan making kissy faces against the glass.

"This… person, he is not a psycho," Obi-Wan made a pause, expecting a question, but Mace didn't make it and the others were looking at him with so much fascination that they probably couldn't even move their lips, so he continued. "He follows a pattern, sure, but he is careless with the details. A mental person is obsessive by nature, but this guy doesn't care about the small personal marks."

"So?" Mace changed his weight to his right foot and drummed his fingers on a table. "He wants us to believe he is psychopathic, ill."

"Perhaps. He uses unknown factories, tools any person could posses, he erases prints, avoids direct marks against the body, it's as if… as if he knew exactly what the police uses to look for someone," Obi-Wan took his hand to his chin, felt Mace arch an eyebrow and continued. "An old police officer, or someone who might know the department's methodology, perhaps someone looking for some kind of revenge."

"Do you think he might have any kind of personal inclination? Towards Kit or… towards you?"

"It's too soon to tell," Obi-Wan dropped his arms to his sides, leaning on a close table. "I would like to go to the crime scenes, make a second check."

"Yes, sure, although…" Mace stopped then, looked at the group of freshmen. All of them straightened unconsciously, moving their amazed eyes from Obi-Wan to Mace. "You may leave now agents; as you can see, real cases aren't solved with a wand. Agent Unduli will answer any further questions and then I want you to go back to work," a choir of yes sirs filled the room and, minutes later, Obi-Wan and Mace were alone.

"You tricked me."

"New people feel more comfortable around you; besides, you've got a reputation that–"

"Compliments won't get you anywhere."

"Oh well, at least–what is he doing?" Obi-Wan followed Mace's gaze and saw Quinlan shaking the freshmen's hands, smiling widely, winking at the girls and probably telling some crazy stories about how he saved some nonexistent girl. He did it every time. "Is he trying to torture me?" As if he had heard him, Quinlan looked at them, waved and offered them a cocky grin.

"He's just trying to be cute. He's in love with you, you know."

"Sure he is, Obi-Wam, sure he is."

* * *

"Are you going to talk to him today?" Anakin half closed his eyes, avoiding the desire of taking them to his handsome and mysterious stalker. Aayla repressed a sigh and put a bottle of beer on the barstool and between his hands. "Anakin, you're impossible."

Anakin smiled, but Aayla had already left the barstool with a tray between her hands, walking towards a table filled with drunken men the new waitress didn't dare to attend. Not a strange thing that; she would learn how to deal with that kind of people in a few weeks.

"Hello, sweetheart," the man who sat next to Anakin was big, perhaps too big, and he was holding a beer between a fat-fingered hand. Anakin bit his lip and looked forward, getting ready to put up with the same conversation once again. "How much?" of course, the man didn't disappoint him. The truth was it had been a while since no one confused him with a whore, and he had gotten used to it.

"You're confusing me, pal," he took a long sip from his drink and kept his eyes down, expecting that to be enough to scare him away.

"Oh, come one, lil' one," apparently, it wasn't going to be, "I've money."

"No," Anakin shook his head and looked up at him, "no," he repeated.

"Allow me to explain meself, hon," and then, a huge hand was on his wrist. Oh, he was going to be one of those. He watched Aayla jump on the other side of the bar, but he shook his head, allowing the man to get closer and to lift his arm. Damn, he was bigger than he had thought. "You're a–"

"Excuse me," Anakin looked behind him, and so did the man.

"Oh, damn!" the man stood up and took a couple steps towards the newcomer, dragging Anakin with him. Anakin's savoir, his knight in his shining armour, wrinkled his nose when the man entered his personal space, but kept staring at him. "So you've a pimp. 's ok, we can make a deal."

"Could you let go of me?"

"Could you let go of him?" murmured his stranger, making the man arch an eyebrow.

"Oh, I see, you want–"

"No, you don't see. What I want is you to let him go, leave this place and use your free time to understand the deep meaning of no. Sounds hard, I know, but I trust you. Now, if you don't mind…"

"'k, 'k, who wants trouble anyway?" the man let go of Anakin's wrist finally, pointing then a finger towards the third one. "But you, you be careful who you deal with, lil' guy."

"I assure you I will be, thank you very much for your concern."

Anakin shook his head when the man left the bar; so much size and so little guts, anyone would have thought he was going to be more violent. Better like this, anyway. Seconds later and with a smile that could be called stupid, Anakin looked at his very own knight and cocked his head to the side. He was even more handsome this close.

"Thank you," he whispered finally, taking one step forward. The stranger swallowed hard and looked into his eyes, visibly uncomfortable with the closeness. Anakin widened his smile. "Some people just don't take no for an answer."

"I see," he smiled and buried his hands inside his pockets, arching an eyebrow when Anakin pointed to the barstool.

"Anakin, my name is Anakin," Anakin bit his lower lip when the man sat next to him on the bar, suddenly self-conscious. He drummed his fingers on the barstool, stopped, put them around his already hot beer. If he didn't talk, he was going to have a stroke. "Anybody would have thought that after coming here for so long you would have something to tell me," the stranger smiled, and Anakin wanted to melt. Slowly.

"And what makes you think I come here for you?" Oh, cocky.

"What other reason could you have? You look far too decent for this place," Anakin clutched the bottle when the man blinked and smiled at the same time, throwing his mind into a chant of lips, eyelashes. Oh, God, he hoped this man was worth it.

"The… food?"

"The food."

"Best French fries in town," and he had a sense of humour.

"Sure," Anakin widened his smile, leaned a little but forward, surprised that such a man could feel intimidated by bodily closeness. "Are you going to force me to ask you your name?"

"Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Anakin nodded, leaned back again, pondered. A good man, kind and with an amazing smile. Promising. "I believe," his voice forced him back to the present, "I believe I must go."

"Go?"

"Yes, I really should get some _real_ food," Obi-Wan stood up, leaving a bill on the barstool.

"I… I've got some real food in my fridge–er, well, no, that's a lie, but we could always ask for some Chinese."

"I think… I think I better leave."

"Oh, well, I… sure, yes, bye."

When the stranger – no, Obi-Wan – walked away, a pat on his back startled him.

"Well, that was a full conversation," exclaimed Aayla walking behind the bar, "he even saved you from the evil dragon; what a knight."

"He said no," murmured Anakin, dropping his head into his hands, "I invited him home and he said no."

"He said no?"

"Well… he implied it. Oh, God, why do all the good ones run away? Did you see him?" he looked up. "He's kind and cute and has the most irresistible smile and, oh, God, why doesn't he like me?"

"Don't be like that, sexy," said Aayla nodding energetically, "forget about him."

"But–"

"Listen to me: forget about him."

* * *

Quinlan's car was more noticeable than his house. It was a shiny black sports car, complete with leather seats and bright platinum wheels that caught everyone's attention. Mace had convinced him not to paint it red, seeing as that wouldn't be all too recommendable in his line of work; he was still surprised Quinlan had listened.

His house was on the docks, and it was one of those ship-house things that weren't really one or the other. Quinlan had inherited it from who knows who, who knows when and who knows why, but that's how things tended to work with Quinlan. The true story probably included guns, threatens and bets, but Obi-Wan wasn't going to ask. When he had met Quinlan, all that had gone through his head had been the question 'are you absolutely mad?'; now, years later, after establishing that Quinlan was, indeed, mad, Obi-Wan knew it was better to keep some facts about him in the dark.

"Are you coming in or are you planning on staying there all afternoon?"

Years before, such a welcoming would have made him flinch, but now it just made his feet move by their own accord towards the place. Obi-Wan had never really liked it. It was too stable to be a boat and too unstable to be a house. He would get dizzy soon.

"What can I offer you?" Obi-Wan sat on the horrendous brown sofa that dominated the room while Quinlan took bottles and bottles from behind the barstool he had installed a couple of years ago. "Whisky? Brandy? Beer? A cocktail, perhaps? Bourbon? Tequila? Rum?"

"Tea?" Quinlan arched an eyebrow. "Brandy, then."

"Brandy it is, then," Quinlan smiled, studying the full bottle before serving the dark liquid in two glasses. "A gift from Mace, his favourite. I'll have to remember that."

"Planning on a gift for him? How romantic."

"I was actually planning on getting him drunk, but I guess the gift thing is not a bad idea either," Obi-Wan laughed softly and Quinlan offered him a smile and one of the glasses. "Well, you see, I received a call."

"About the case?" Obi-Wan leaned forward, interested.

"About you," Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow; Quinlan kept his smile. "Aayla," Obi-Wan sighed. He was actually surprised it had taken her that long. "She said you've been going to the bar, certain days and hours," Quinlan wiggled both eyebrows.

"And that was the urgent thing you had to tell me? I left my windows open, and it's raining."

"It is urgent!" exclaimed Quinlan. "It's not everyday you act like a psycho."

"Like a psycho?"

"Obsessed and all."

"Are you calling me a psycho?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong Obi-Wan, I think it's healthy that you show interest for someone," Quinlan smiled, took a sip from his drink, "I was starting to think you were a eunuch."

"Gee, thanks."

"You know what I mean. Besides, the kid is handsome and young, you should talk to him and–"

"I already talked to him."

"Oh, goody. It won't be long before he asks you to his place and–"

"He already did."

"Oh! So then you two already–"

"I said no."

"You said no?"

"I said no."

Quinlan blinked a couple of times, not looking away from Obi-Wan and, right then, he rolled a newspaper that was resting innocently on the table and used it to smack Obi-Wan on the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Obi-Wan avoided a second blow and, clutching the newspaper from his free end, he pulled it away from Quinlan's hands.

"Well, someone had to do it, and who better than me?" Obi-Wan half closed his eyes, Quinlan sighed. "I don't know why you reject easy, fun sex."

"I don't want easy, fun sex."

"Everyone wants easy, fun sex."

"Not ev–this is stupid," Obi-Wan leaned against the back of the seat, leaving his glass on the table and out of his reach. "He is a kid."

"Obi-Wan, you… how do I say this with tact?"

"Quinlan, you have no tact."

"Oh, great them," Quinlan smiled, then he shrugged. "Qui-Gon is not coming back."

"This is not about–"

"Yes, it is. I've seen you reject more people than it is healthy in the last few years."

"But I have been with–"

"Far less people than you should have and never for more than a night. Trust me here, it's not healthy to stalk a boy and then leave him like this. You don't know him, you may like him, you may not, but I want you to find out, so you better kneel in front of him and beg for forgiveness and, if begging doesn't work, then you'll be in a position in which you can do certain things that will grant you at least a second chance."

"Oh, God, could you be more vulgar?"

"Of course," Quinlan offered him a smile and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Now, let's get drunk."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Xtine: **you have no idea how happy it makes me that people seem to be loving Quinlan so much. I adore him and I'm just having so much fun writing him! Yeah, I kind of see him like Jack Sparrow, too. As a matter of fact, sometimes I feel I'm usisng that character as an inspiration without even noticing it. And oh, Obi-Wan and Ani... it's kind of hard to put them together in here and make it look beliavelible. I just don't want to rush it there. Anyway, love, thanks as always!

**Lincoln Six Echo: **thanks! Yes, I'm taking my time with the boys, because I don't want to rush what they have between them. You're right, Ani doesn't want easy, fun sex either. Thanks a lot, sweetheart!

**Phoenix Red Lion: **I'm having a lot of fun with Quin and Luminara, they'reboth really great! And yes, people like to smack each other on the head here. I really like that! Thanks a lot!

**decktodef: **oh, I have a pervy-witty mind? Well, as long as it's appreciated...

**TM: **Quinlan just rocks my socks! He's so much fun and, the thing is, having him in this atmosphere with no jedis or codes just makes him all the more crazy. He's such an incredible character, especially when next to Obi-Wan, because they create an amazing contrast. And I know I already said this, but Ani does needto be hugged, badly. Thanks!

* * *

_Chapter IV_

The phone rang once, twice, three, four times and, finally, someone on the other side picked it up.

_"You've reached Quinlan Vos' answering machine, pleas–"_

"Quinlan, you don't have a answering machine."

_"Obi! Well, no, I don't, but the unpleasant people I don't want to talk to don't know that, now do they?"_

"Should I feel flattered, then?"

_"Of course! You know you have a very special place in my lil' heart."_

"Before or after your lovers?"

_"Depends on when you ask,"_ Obi-Wan chuckled softly and, with a heavy movement, he sat on his couch. He knew Quinlan was smiling on the other side. _"So, then what–"_

"White or red?" asked a female voice from the kitchen, dragging Obi-Wan's attention to said room.

"Whatever you feel like."

_"Who's that? You've company and you're wasting your time with me?"_

"It's just me, Quinlan," Luminara entered the room with two glasses and a bottle of red wine, which she left on a nearby table, and smiled towards the phone as if it was Quinlan himself.

_"'Nara! Am I on the speaker?"_ Obi-Wan nodded, not realizing Quinlan couldn't see him until Luminara didn't answer for him.

"Yes, you're on the speaker, Quin."

_"Well, so midnight, wine… red if I know you well enough 'Nara, have you two finally decided to hit it off? Sincerely, it was about time, sexual tension is just not good between friends. You'll have to invite me for a threesome sometime, though, so I won't feel left out or anything."_

"We are just working," murmured Obi-Wan while rolling his eyes. "You know, police work, autopsy talks, not very erotic," Quinlan sighed on the other side and Luminara laughed while she sat next to Obi-Wan on the couch.

_"Just so you know: you two are very boring… although I guess a romance with Luminara would have stopped your affair with the kid, and we don't want to break his heart, right?"_

"Quin, don't–"

"What kid?" Luminara arched an eyebrow and Obi-Wan looked away before he blushed.

_"Obi-Wan hasn't told you about the boy he's been stalking?"_

"I haven't been stalk–"

_"His name's Anakin, and he shakes his hips in the bar where Aayla works. He's gorgeous, Obi here has really good taste."_

"Quinlan! Could you–"

"I think it's healthy," interrupted Luminara, finding Obi-Wan's eyes and smiling. "It's been years since you haven't been genuinely interested in someone."

_"That's what I said," _Obi-Wan sighed, resigned, and took one hand to his temple. _"Of course, if you didn't reject him…"_

"You rejected him?" asked Luminara. Obi-Wan wasn't looking at her, but he knew her penetrating gaze was on him, amused but accusing. "He rejected him?" this time Luminara talked towards the phone.

_"He just does–"_

"Can we please focus on the purpose of this call?"

_"You mean to say this conversation has a different purpose than just annoying you?" _Luminara laughed again, and Obi-Wan just sighed.

"I need to get me some new friends."

_"Pffft, as if you could find someone better than us."

* * *

_

Late. Late, late, late, late. He was going to be late and Barriss was going to cut his throat in the cruellest way possible.

Anakin ran through the university's hallways, bag on his back, books between his arms and half combed hair falling annoyingly over his eyes. This would have been easier if he had just checked the classroom's number before leaving his home as if running a race – and effectively tripping with a neighbour and being lectured by it –. Or perhaps he shouldhave just attended class regularly.

He had only taken the criminology course because he needed the extra credit. He had actually wanted to take this very interesting robotics class, but his schedule didn't allow him to and Barriss had pouted so he joined her in this one, imparted by her adored professor Unduli. Barriss liked her a lot, but Anakin found her quite scary. The result had been that he didn't assist to class, simply begging Barriss for her notes and using the free time to study something else. If he had decided to go today it had been only because Barriss had told him that the class was going to be imparted by a professor who had been police agent, and Anakin just hadn't been able to resist.

And he was going to be late.

"139, 140, 141… 142!"

Identifying the correct classroom, Anakin opened the door energetically and let it close behind him with a loud crack while he supported his weight on his knees and tried to catch his breath. Unaware of the noise he had caused, he almost jumped when he heard a severe voice talking to him.

"Would you please take a seat, mister…"

"Skywalker," he answered, "Anak–" and then he looked up. And oh, eyes and lips and hands and hair and oh, he was a teacher. A teacher and a former police officer.

In front of him, wearing dark trousers, white shirt and green tie, Obi-Wan Kenobi looked at him with half green half blue eyes hidden behind a pair of thin glasses. He looked edible. His eyes were surprised, but they stayed firm on him.

"Coul-could," Obi-Wan coughed softly and looked away, "could you take a seat, mister Skywalker?"

"Yes, sure professor, sure, I… seat, yes, right."

With a soft cough and a few hurried steps, Anakin sat next to Barriss in the front row of the classroom, receiving an instant blow from the girl.

"You okay?" she asked while Anakin searched for pen and paper inside his bag. Hard job, seeing as his hands were not working properly.

"Yeah, I'm fine, fine," shrugging, Barriss turned her attention back to the professor, just as Anakin did seconds later.

Deep voice and light eyes that were there for the whole class and yet, just for him. Oh, this was going to be one long class.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't. Obi-Wan talked fast but clearly, moving his hands a lot and accepting the stupidest questions, smiling widely, folding his sleeves, narrating almost as if he was a storyteller and sitting on the edge of the table in a way he wasn't supposed to. The whole class seemed to be bewitched, and Anakin didn't know if the fact that Obi-Wan wasn't paying him any special attention was a good or a bad thing. Any case, Anakin didn't do anything that could drag the teacher's attention towards him.

"Anakin, Ani… Ani!"

"Ow!" Anakin looked at Barriss while massaging the spot in his arm she had pinched, insinuating a pout on his lower lip. "Care to explain why I deserved that?"

"You were late," Barriss poked him in the chest with an accusing finger and frowned until, finally, she shrugged. "Although I guess I should be thankful thatyou showed up at all."

"You're never going to forgive me that, are you?"

"No," Anakin sighed, shook his head and started putting paper and pen back on his bag. "Well, I'm sorry anyway; I fell asleep."

"That's what I thought," murmured Barriss while biting distractedly the back of a pen. "If you didn't spend so much in that hellhole."

"It's just a job," Anakin just shrugged; they had had that conversation at least twenty times.

"A job that consists on shaking your hips half naked in front of perverted men who fantasize with screwing you."

"Don't be that exaggerated. It's a nice place and the payment is good; besides, Aayla is there, and you know she wouldn't let any–"

"Excuse me if I don't think Aayla is strong enough to protect you from horny paedophiles," Anakin laughed softly and shrugged: Barriss had always been a bit melodramatic.

"Have you seen the guy that guards the entrance? He's huge," Barriss sighed softly, relaxing her arms and pulling from one of Anakin's rebel locks, which went back to its position when she let go.

"I'm sorry, you know I like worrying about you," Anakin smiled, hanged his bag on his left shoulder and pressed his lips to the girl's temple.

"And you know I like you doing it."

"Come on, no need to get touchy-feely… are we leaving?"

"Actually, I would like to have a word with the teacher if you don't mind," Anakin pointed at the sitting figure and Barriss arched a curious eyebrow. "Wait for me outside?" Barriss looked at Obi-Wan once again and then shrugged.

"I'll see you in ten minutes in front of the library," she murmured while looking at her watch, "don't be late."

One more smile and Barriss had walked out of the room.

"Hi," Obi-Wan looked up when he heard his voice, and all Anakin could do was offer him a smile.

Seconds later, he was still smiling. Obi-Wan kept looking at him while he changed his weight from to foot, played with his dark blue sweater sleeves and pretended to hold his bag more securely. Finally, Obi-Wan spoke.

"I didn't know you studied here," Obi-Wan wondered if those had been the best words to use, he didn't want to sound offensive. The thing was, he was as nervous as Anakin seemed, he was just better at hiding it.

"I didn't know you were a teacher. Or a cop. Or… well, I didn't know what you were, you know, professionally, I mean–" Anakin stopped when Obi-Wan smiled widely at him.

"You study medicine? Psychology perhaps?" Obi-Wan leaned back on his chair and kept his smile. It was weird how much safer he felt here than at the bar.

"No, I'm actually an engineering student, but I needed the credits and Barriss, my friend," Anakin pointed at the dooras only explanation, "well, she asked me to take this with her. I'm not really much into it, but she loves it, besides, she really likes professor Unduli. I think she's scary, but Barriss wants to enter this program she offers and then she wants to enter the corps and work with her, so I've been almost forced into this, I never even come to class and… and I babble when I'm nervous." Oh, cute. _So_ cute.

"I can see that."

"Well, I… I just wanted to say hi, so I better go," he pointed towards the door once again.

"It's been good to see you," murmured Obi-Wan before he could stop himself. He bit his lower lip when Anakin looked back at him and smirked, resembling more the cheeky dancer and less the shy student.

"Thanks."

"Anakin?"

"Yes?"

"Can I buy you lunch?"

"I… I'd love that."

* * *

Quinlan took his cigarette to his mouth, looked at the man from the corner of his eye and then returned his eyes to the front. Thirty, perhaps thirty one years old, big, hard muscles hidden behind a long black coat, dark hair and eyes, squared features, a gun on his back and another one on his ankle. And he had been following him all day. Quinlan couldn't wait to find out what he wanted.

He left his cigarette on the closest ashtray and stood up from his seat on the greasy barstool. He put on his own coat and left the place through the back door. He waited for a couple of minutes and, as he had expected, he found himself with his back to the dirty wall of the alley and a gun against his stomach. It was risky, but perhaps this would tell him more than any investigation he did.

"Nice coat," he murmured while he looked up at his attacker.

"You've been investigating something, haven't you?"Quinlan smirked, lowering his eyes to the gun that was against his dark shirt. Nowadays killers had no class, but he had to admit this one carried a good weapon.

"And I'm guessing you want me to stop," he said finally.

"Smart boy."

"That's what my mom used to say," the stranger laughed softly and Quinlan widened his smile. If things got ugly, he would have to reach for his own gun.

"This is just a warning. If you insist in this, there won't be a second one," this kids started sounding more and more like a bad cops TV show.

"And why don't you just shoot me now?" It was a reasonable question, but Quinlan suspected whoever had hired this guy didn't want to spill more blood than it was necessary. "Someone forbade you to or you just don't have the balls to do it?" A hollow sound and oh, he hadn't been expecting that. Well, a bullet in his stomach, that was new. Quinlan found himself thanking that the guy was holding him so firmly. "That was completely unnecessary, and very unprofessional, too."

"A warning," Quinlan tried to nod, but the man was leaving already and he was falling to the floor.

Oh, it hurt. It hurt a lot.

Sometime later, Quinlan was falling heavily on Mace Windu's arms.

"Uff, Quinlan," the police chief held him more firmly and dragged him inside his apartment. "What did you do this time?"

"I swear it wasn't my fault. There was a guy… in the alley and–"

"Shut up, Quin," for the first time ever, Quinlan actually did. Mace suspected it had a lot to do with him having a bullet inside his stomach.

With a few more uncomfortable steps, Mace dragged Quinlan to his bed, were he fell like a dead weight. He got rid of his boots and then opened the dark shirt to look at the no longer bleeding wound.

"I better call Luminara," Mace murmured.

"You don-don't… Just take it out," Mace was going to protest, but Quinlan continued before he could do so, "it's not the first time and I'm sure you still have some of that ether you used last time."

"You realize that it's addictive?"

"You realize I have a bullet in my stomach?" Mace sighed and shook his head. Quinlan was going to take him to an early grave, he was sure.

The ether had been a rushed solution Luminara had thought of when they had realised that Quinlan always got the worst and most painful kind of wounds ever. It wasn't the best of solutions, but it was good enough to make him sleep.

"You need a doctor, Quinlan," sentenced Mace when he returned to the room.

"No, you know–"

"You're a bounty hunter and can't go to see a doctor," he completed while looked at the wound and started to clean it. "I don't know why you still are. You should become a policeman."

"And start from the bottom?"

"You would have to go to the academy, but I would move you to the homicide department right then. Your job would be the same one, but you'd have a badge, a legal weapon, and you could go see a doctor when you were shot.

"Careful there Macey, you sound almost worried," Mace pressed his lips in a thin line and Quinlan laughed softly, regretting it when a spasm of pain went through him. "Come here, Mace."

"What?"

"Come here," Mace did just because Quinlan was wounded and suddenly, a pair of lips brushed his quickly.

"Why would you do that?"

"It must be the ether," Mace preferred to ignore the fact that the ether was on the floor, untouched.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter V_

"... the cylinder capacity of the bike is a bit low, and it could use some new stuff, but I'm actually saving for a car. I've a model that..."

Anakin rambled. A lot. Obi-Wan found it strangely charming. When the invitation for a meal had left his mouth, Obi-Wan had started to freak out. What were they going to talk about? Where were they going to go? What was going to happen? Obi-Wan just didn't know how to act in spontaneous pseudo-dates. But once they had chosen a small and cosy little restaurant close to the main building of the university, Anakin had taken care of the conversation.

Anakin was witty, a little bit nervous, a little bit hyperactive, and ever changing. He would go from a cocky and bold young man, to a shy and insecure boy, in less than a second. He could spend full minutes talking non-stop of motors, wires, vehicles and velocity, almost loosing his breath, with shiny eyes, and waving his hands around, fast and excited. All in all, he was quite adorable.

"… black¡or red! Or... or yellow; I've always wanted a yellow car and... I'm babbling again, ain't I?" Anakin looked up, insinuating a pout in his lower lip. "Sorry." He looked at his empty plate, and drew a small shy smile.

Obi-Wan laughed softly, amused. Anakin's facial expressions were open and simple, and they didn't hide a feeling. Obi-Wan found himself completely mesmerised by the man in front of him.

"You like cars," sentenced Obi-Wan, after a short pause. Anakin nodded energetically. "Is that why you picked engineering?"

Anakin nodded again, putting both elbows on the table and leaning forward. "I was always fixing things when I was little. I built a motorbike with different parts."

"Then why criminology as an extra class?"

"Barriss. A friend of mine. She dragged me to criminology and philosophy, although I managed to escape from this really boring class… something like classical culture or–"

"I teach that class."

"-which, on the other hand, I'm sure is fascinating and–"

Obi-Wan chuckled, supporting his face on his right fist. "Nice try, but I'm not buying it."

Anakin half smiled, trying uselessly to avoid a light blush. "I'm sorry, I'm just no good at those kind of things. Philosophy is killing me; there's too much to read and, it's… it's like living in The Matrix."

"The Matrix?" Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, considering if he should feel intrigued or offended.

"Yes, the movie, you know? Everything is, but really isn't, and then you never know what exists and what doesn't; just like in The Matrix." Anakin nodded, totally convinced, and Obi-Wan chose to smile.

"I think Plato is shaking inside his tomb right now." Anakin pouted. "I can help you with philosophy, if you want me to."

"Sure!"

Oh, private lessons. It had always been one of Anakin's fantasies; he was just lacking the hot teacher, but he had found him.

"I have to do this essay on–isn't that your cell phone?"

Obi-Wan looked up, registering for the first time the high-pitched sound. He looked inside his jacket's pocket, producing a small black phone, which rang insistently. Quinlan must have been playing with his ring tones; he didn't remember programming _Come what may_.

Obi-Wan looked at the caller-ID, and then looked up at Anakin. "I have to take this, sorry."

Anakin nodded, watching Obi-Wan stand up, walk a few steps away and start talking on the phone. He caught something that sounded like 'what do you mean he was shot?' from the conversation, but he preferred to ignore it, and use his time in something much more addictive: watching Obi-Wan.

He hadn't been wrong in his first impression; Obi-Wan was a good man. A teacher, a cop; who cared? He was kind, he had an amazing smile, and he took him seriously, not only as a piece of meat, or a stupid kid. He was a bit uptight, too serious perhaps, and shy, but he was also witty and sarcastic. Anakin found him more attractive than any of his fake fantasies.

He wondered what exactly had dragged such a man to the bar, what he could possibly see in him, an ignorant kid. But Anakin wasn't going to talk about Obi-Wan's trips to the bar just yet.

When the call was over, Obi-Wan walked towards him, and Anakin offered him a wide smile.

"I must leave, I'm sorry," murmured Obi-Wan.

"Oh, well, I… I've class anyway, I should leave, too." Anakin stood up, grabbed his backpack and looked up. "I… well, we'll see each other, right? A-Around, yes?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good, I…" Anakin pointed behind him and at the university. "See you later."

And with that, Anakin took off, and Obi-Wan sighed. He grabbed his jacket and put it on, returning the phone to the front pocket.

Mace insisted that his presence wasn't necessary, but after all, Quinlan had been shot. Not that that was something new. Any case, a visit seemed logical.

"Obi-Wan!" Obi-Wan looked up, seeing Anakin enter the restaurant again, a pen in his hand, and his hair ruffled.

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, and then the second one too, when Anakin gripped his wrist and pulled him close.

Obi-Wan looked down at the soft and warm fingers that caressed the underside of his wrist, telling himself that such an innocent gesture shouldn't feel so intimate. He looked up again, and Anakin smiled at him.

"It's just that, well, in case we don't see each other–" Anakin broke the visual contact, lowering his eyes, and leaning the pen against Obi-Wan's hand, "--you should call me, you know?" Obi-Wan felt the pen scratch his hand, drawing clumsy numbers. His eyes, though, stayed fixed on Anakin's face. "Any time."

Obi-Wan found himself nodding, smiling a little when Anakin didn't let go of his wrist after writing the number. Seconds later, Anakin's face was descending over his, and a pair of lips were leaving an almost ethereal kiss on the corner of his lips.

"Bye!"

Obi-Wan stood there for a few seconds, dumbfounded.

* * *

"Obi, thank God! She's lecturing me."

Obi-Wan looked at Quinlan, sittingon Mace's bed, and then at Luminara, wearing her famous and scary lecture face. Obi-Wan just smiled a little, shrugging, and letting Mace's voice talking over the phone on the next room fill the silence.

"Well, you deserve a lecture," sentenced Luminara, sighing.

"Oh, come on, I've been shot, you should be indulging me."

Both Luminara and Obi-Wan chuckled, and Quinlan pouted a little.

"How are you feeling?" asked Obi-Wan, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm perfectly fine, Obi!" exclaimed Quinlan, smiling widely. "Now, since we are going to indulge Quinlan–"

"We are?"

"—how about that threesome?" Quinlan leaned one hand on Obi-Wan's thigh, and then pulled Luminara to the bed, keeping a firm grip around her waist.

All the answer he received were a pair of raised eyebrows.

"Come on! We'll make it a foursome; I bet I can convince Mace to join us."

"And why do I feel no one would be paying me much attention?" murmured Luminara.

* * *

Mace leaned back on his seat, sighing, while putting his hand to his tired eyes, and rubbing them hard. When he looked forward again, the reason for such a gesture had already crossed the office, had glared at all the people in it, and was in front of his desk, a defying look in her eyes.

"Senator," murmured Mace, his eyes fixed on the woman in front of him.

Padmé stayed silent for a few seconds, looking at the police chief with her penetrating dark eyes. It wasn't a secret that senator Amidala trusted the police department blindly, and that she considered it an important part of her campaign, but that didn't help with the fact that Mace found her occasional visits unnerving.

"Chief Windu," murmured Padmé, finally. "I need you to solve this case, now." Padmé punctuated her demand with a strong blow to Mace's desk, and a firm look.

"The whole department is working on this, senator." Mace preferred to skip the part in which he asked her what case she was talking about; they both knew exactly what this was about.

Padmé sighed, raised both arms, and finally, dropped heavily on a chair, getting rid of her uncomfortable blue coat. "Who is in charge of the case?"

"Officially, Kit Fisto. Unofficially, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Luminara Unduli and Quinlan Vos."

"Oh, great."

Mace didn't hide his smile; it was no secret that Luminara and Quinlan weren't two of the senator's favourite people. And, speaking of…

"Senator! Long time, no see." Quinlan entered the office as if it belonged to him, sitting on the edge of the table distractedly. "What brings you here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" asked Mace, before the senator answered. Ha had left Quinlan in his bed, firmly tucked under kilos of blankets, and with a couple of sleeping pills in his stomach.

"I came to pay you a visit, sweetcheeks." Quinlan squeezed one of Mace's cheeks and, despite herself, Padmé found herself smiling when the police chief smacked Quinlan.

Before the conversation could move on, the door opened again, and this time it was Luminara the one to enter. It didn't take her more than a second to identify the senator, forcing both Quinlan and Mace to flinch when Padmé met her gaze. It was true that Padmé found Quinlan annoying, but the hate-hate relationship that joined her with Luminara was a completely different thing.

"Senator."

"Agent."

Both women held their gazes, and the only thing that managed to distract Mace from the silent battle, was an arm sliding down his back, and a pair of lips on his ear.

"You look for a pair of bikinis," murmured Quinlan, "I'll go get the mud."

Despite himself, Mace smiled. "Senator, please," he said, before a verbal battle could take place inside his office. "Is there something else?"

"Dooku is after this case," said Padmé, quickly. "I believe he has started an investigation already, and it won't take him long to take this to court. I'll try to keep him away as long as I can, but I need you to give the press a clue, a suspect, something. If this falls in Palpatine's hands, he'll allow as many deaths as he considers necessary. The future of the city depends too much in this case, chief Windu."

* * *

"A man who eats broccoli." Obi-Wan looked up when he heard the voice next to him, finding Anakin looking intently at his cart. Suddenly, he looked at him. "I'm afraid this relationship is not going to work."

"What's wrong with broccoli?" asked Obi-Wan, resting both arms on his cart.

"Broccoli. Ew."

Obi-Wan chuckled, lowering his eyes to Anakin's cart. "Because pre-cooked pasta is so much better?"

"I'm a very busy person," said Anakin. "Besides, I've been known to burn ice, but I'm a microwave expert."

"You're going to kill yourself with that kind of food," murmured Obi-Wan, pointing at the cart. "Here—" Obi-Wan selected a few oranges, put them inside a plastic bag, and offered them to Anakin, "—take some oranges."

Anakin arched an eyebrow, but he still took the fruit. "Ok, but I won't be going to the dark side of broccoli."

Obi-Wan smiled, pushing his cart slightly. "Do you come here usually? It's funny we've never met here before."

"No, not really. What else do you need?"

"I've finished, actually."

"Come with me for some ice-cream, then, and we'll leave together, yes?" Anakin smiled widely, and Obi-Wan answered him with a smile of his own. God, Anakin was _dying_ to kiss him.

"Ice-cream, another healthy product."

"Oh, come on! There's nothing better than sitting in front of the TV, putting on a good movie, and eating ice-cream from the container."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "I don't eat ice-cream from the container."

"What do you do with it, then?" asked Anakin, considering which ice-cream flavour to buy. He chose chocolate, which was Obi-Wan's favourite, if his cart filled with chocolaty products was any indication. He might lure him to his house with the promise of some chocolate ice-cream and then… oh, kinky.

"Put it in an ice-cream cup."

Anakin shook his head, steeping out of his fantasy and into reality. "An ice-cream cup?"

"Yes… cups, where you put the ice-cream?"

"Are there cups just for ice-cream?" asked Anakin. "That sounds like a very limited use."

"Well, I guess you can put other things in them, too."

"Like what?"

"Like… I don't know, caramel? Desserts, mostly."

"Shouldn't they be called dessert cups, then?"

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, laughing softly. "You're being purposefully annoying."

"Part of my charm."

A few minutes later, both men left the place, bags in hand.

"Can I invite you to a cup of coffee?" asked Obi-Wan.

Anakin bit his lip unconsciously. "I can't, I've got to get to work." Obi-Wan arched a questioning eyebrow, and Anakin expanded his explanation. "I work in a nearby coffee shop three afternoons a week. Perhaps some other day, though."

Obi-Wan nodded, a little bit sadly. "Yes, sure."

"But… would you do something for me?"

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, but then he nodded. "I guess."

"Would you drop your bags?"

Obi-Wan kept his eyebrow arched, but he did what he had been asked, leaving his bags on the floor. The moment he did so, a pair of warm lips were on his, firm but shy, articulating a silent question. Obi-Wan clutched the front of Anakin's shirt, and then everything was a whirlwind of colours. Anakin brought him closer, wrapping his arms around him, and his lips, shy until then, became bold, until the simple gesture became a battle of tongue versus tongue, getting lost between a pair of mouths that seemed to be just one.

Anakin bit Obi-Wan's lower lip, and repressed himself from cupping his ass with his hands. Perhaps next time; now he was happy keeping them on his lower back, which gave him a rather possessive grip on Obi-Wan. Anakin loved that Obi-Wan was tinier than him, because he could surround him completely, make him fit perfectly within his embrace.

"You kissed me," whispered Obi-Wan, once his lips were free.

Anakin, not letting go of Obi-Wan, chuckled. "How very observant of you; no wonder you were such a good detective." Obi-Wan decided not to grace that comment with an answer. "I was dying to."

"Oh, good."

This time, it was Obi-Wan the one to lean into a second kiss. Obi-Wan didn't do this, he didn't kiss far too young, far too sexy young men in the middle of the street, but it had been so long since someone kissed him so thoroughly, so slow, and wet, and soft. Besides, he guessed a small part of himself _had_ been thinking about sex when he had being going to the bar. Ok, a huge part. But then it had been a harmless fantasy, not a pair of very soft and very real lips above his. But Anakin felt all kinds of nice, so Obi-Wan clutched him tighter, and allowed his tongue to brush Anakin's, and his teeth and lips to find Anakin's clumsily, fast and perfect.

"I have to go," whispered Anakin, when they parted for the second time. Obi-Wan nodded, feeling a little bit dizzy. Anakin cupped his face with both hands, and pressed a last short kiss to his reddened lips. "Call me."

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Lincoln Six Echo: **thanks! Let´s see hot does the detective adventure come out. Hope logical, at least!

**Phoenix Red Lion: **Thanks! I´m so glad you´re liking this. I was happy for Anakin, too... Obi was so not taking the firt step, the poor thing. No, no! Broccoli is eeevil, I swear it is. LOL. Thanks!

**QueenMeep: **thanks! Geez, now everyone loves broccoli? 'Cause I hate it. But anyway, glad you're enjoying.

**Xtine: **you have to love Quinlan, don't you? He's so much fun to write, so much fun to read. He's a darling, he truly is. And God, I´m so glad I can still write kissing... it has been a long time since I write happy, angst-free kisses, you know? But if you say I can still do it, I will have to believe you. Thanks a lot, hon!

**TM: **Alright, I promise I won't leave the OTP, as long as it keeps making you happy. /grins/ I think Quin owns us all; he cracked my world, for sure. Oh, Luminara and Padmé... I´m not sure about how much I´m going to write with those two, but I like the idea of such strong characters together! So glad you like this, thanks!

**Marquise de Carabas: **talk about a long review! But I really liked it, actually. Now, let's give you an appropiete answer, step by step. Well, the characters. Glad they're not OOC. My idea was to make them all just slighty more free than they are, having in mind that I'm removing the chains from the Council and the Code. Quinlan? I'm not sure he's all that canon... but my Quinlan is always the same, and he's one of my favorite characters, he really is.

Quin/Mace was something that came up in my other long story, 'Under my skin', and that just happened. I wanted them to be friends, and suddenly Quin was being cheeky, and smooching Mace. But I'm completely in love with them. Anakin and Obi-WAn, well, they're my OTP, and they're what I do, so I'm very, very happy that you like how they're evolving. (And I totally agree here: you won't find better material than TempleMistress' and Xtine's).

The lack of Yoda is intentional. I gave that a thought before I sat and wrote this, but as you yourself said, he's the little green troll, and he just didn't fit here, so I decided that leaving him out was wiser.

My native tongue is, is fact, Spanish. The stories you see in Spanish are the exact same ones you see in English. I write in Spanish and then translate, and you telling me that my grammar is good makes me all kinds of happy. Any case, if you see something that sounds weird, it´s probably because it´s wrong... I just hate english prepositions! But I'm getting better.

So, all I have to say to you is thank you so much, I'm really happy you're liking this, and I really hope you keep enjoying it.

**Redneck626: **thanks a lot!

And I´m back from London! Hope you guys like this!

* * *

_Chapter VI_

"He's not coming, is he? I rushed things, and now he's not going to come and-"

"Oh, Anakin, shut up." Aayla cut off the boy's next comment with a determined look, and pointed at his clothes. Anakin sighed, and followed the silent order.

Aayla left the room and walked behind the barstool, looking once again at the spot where Anakin's admirer was not sitting tonight. She shook her head, looking then at Barriss, who had come with Anakin to the bar, worried as she had been for his mental health. At least Aayla knew that if that man dared to hurt Anakin, Barriss would support her in her murdering purposes.

"He hasn't arrived yet," she murmured, making Barriss look at her with a pair of red eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Of coooourse; another drink?"

Aayla sighed, raising two fingers. "How many fingers do you see, Barriss?"

"Well… I'm seeing four, but I'm conscious of the fact that you're only holding two, does that count?"

"No, it doesn't. No more alcohol for you tonight."

Barriss whimpered, but she ended up accepting the sweaty glass of water Aayla put in front of her before going to attend the rest of the clients. None of them was Anakin's stranger. Who would have thought that professor Kenobi spent his time stalking young male dancers? No wonder Anakin was worried about such a relationship; now that the teacher's identity had been discovered, Barriss didn't think that he was going to show up here again.

Anakin was, indeed, worried. Had he rushed things? Had he scared Obi-Wan? Kissing him hadn't been a good idea, but he had wanted to so badly… But it had been too soon, too rushed, too impulsive, too stupid. Obi-Wan was never coming back, he knew. Still, he hoped he did.

But he didn't.

An hour after his show, holding an empty glass with both hands, and acting as a human pillow for Barriss, who had fallen asleep minutes before, Anakin sighed.

"Don't be depressed, sexy," said Aayla for the fifth time that night. "You deserve som-"

"It's ok, Aayla, I'm fine. I better leave, and get Barriss home."

"Oh, Anakin, don't y-"

"'Night, 'Yala, I'll see you in a couple of days."

* * *

Obi-Wan took a sip of his coffee, and cursed when he felt the liquid cold against his tongue. The mug had been sitting next to him for hours, completely forgotten, just like the rushed dinner he had cooked for himself, and the photographs that were scattered on the floor. That was one of his methods, putting all the evidence together and close: photos, prints, clues; and keeping the informs close, in case a ray of light entered his mind and told him where to start looking. But Obi-Wan wasn't focused of the case.

Anakin. Anakin, Anakin, Anakin. It seemed to be the only thing his head registered, and it was rather frustrating. He had decided not to go to the bar that night, and if he had to be honest with himself, the main reason had been fear. Yes, fear, stupid and irrational. The thing was, since Qui-Gon, he had had one-night affairs, but nothing that could come close to a relationship, nothing that made him get close to someone again. But Obi-Wan had rejected an affair with Anakin the night he had offered it, and now he was facing the fact that he liked Anakin. He liked Anakin a lot. And Obi-Wan wasn't ready for that.

Despite that, he couldn't stop feeling guilty over not showing up on the bar, right after Anakin had kissed him in the middle of the street, impulsive, sweet and nervous. Right now, he just wanted to fix what he had messed up, and the knowledge that he really wanted this to work out was doing nothing for his nerves. After all, Anakin was too young, too beautiful, too… too much!

Obi-Wan lay back on the sofa, and offered his mug an offended look. He would have to prepare some more coffee. Obi-Wan decided that the destiny was mocking him when he discovered that he had run out of coffee, and that if he wanted a sip, he would have to walk five blocks to the old coffee shop that was open 24/7 all days of the year. He sighed, resigned, and went looking for his coat.

The night was dark, and the rain fell noisily on the grey streets. Obi-Wan repressed a curse, and started walking on the border of the street, trying to protect himself of the water under balconies and terraces. And then, he felt it. Obi-Wan sometimes thought that the sixth sense he seemed to possess had formed through years of police work, but sometimes he believed he had simply been born with it. Any case, a soft prickle on his scalp told him that someone was following him. He kept walking, stopping in front of a shop, which crystal acted as a mirror in the night light. The man who followed him was tall and dark, and he covered his eyes with a pair of sunglasses that were as dark as hisskin and as his coat, which hid part of his face.

Obi-Wan buried his hands in the pockets of his own coat and kept walking, taking his steps towards an illuminated street. It didn't take him long to reach a wide avenue filled with stores, restaurants, and people. He started walking faster and, looking at the man over his shoulder, he went inside a Chinese restaurant.

"Mister Kenobi," said the waiter automatically, opening his arms in a welcoming manner. The restaurant was small and cosy, and Obi-Wan was a regular costumer.

"Mister Wong, may I use your back door?"

The waiter didn't feign surprise or frowned, simply pointing at the back of the restaurant. "Of course, Mister Kenobi."

Obi-Wan offered him a thanking nod, and crossed the local and the kitchens, reaching the back door. It led to a poorly illuminated alley, which was usually the home of cats and drug addicts, but this night there was none of those. In their place, a man dressed in a grey coat and hat, who smoked a cigarette slowly, watched him with smiley eyes. For a moment, Obi-Wan felt as the leading actor of a Humphrey Boggart movie, or perhaps a John LeCarré novel, but the illusion only lasted a few seconds.

"I see you haven't lost your old instincts." Dooku moved the cigarette away from his mouth, and let the ashes fall to the floor. He half smiled, taking one step towards Obi-Wan. "I'm afraid, though, that you have become rather predictable."

"Now you're spying on me? I didn't know I deserved such attentions."

Dooku laughed softly, and Obi-Wan leaned his back against the wall, looking around him. Dooku didn't have to be dangerous, but he was famous for his dirty tricks and his stabs on the back; although perhaps Obi-Wan was too old a rival to be attacked in such a vile way. Any case, every precaution was necessary.

"How is the case going?" asked Dooku, letting the cigarette fall to the floor, and putting it out with a shiny black shoe. "Did you find anything out?"

Obi-Wan smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. "And what makes you think that I will give you any kind of information?"

"I thought you might want to help." Dooku shrugged. "After all, the case is mine."

"Not yet."

Dooku laughed again, forcing Obi-Wan to dig his nails on his palms. "It will be soon. Do you really think the senator's attempts to support the police are going to work in any way?"

"She-"

"Is strong, yes, and completely annoying, but that's all."

Obi-Wan stayed silent, facing Dooku's look. It was the same look that had left the police corps to follow Palpatine, the same one that had watched Qui-Gon's burial, and the same one that had defied him every second of his life. Cold, calculating, and hateful. Obi-Wan dropped his arms to his sides.

"What do you want, Dooku?"

"I want you to leave the case." Obi-Wan snorted, crossing his arms over his chest again. "Either that, or join us."

This time Obi-Wan laughed openly. "Are you being serious?"

"I told him that you wouldn't accept the offer; after all, you have an strange self-destructive tendency, but he insisted."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I will not work for you, and I won't leave the case. Now, if you excuse me, I would like to leave. And please, make sure no one follows."

"Of course. Although, if I were you, I would watch my back."

* * *

Mace looked through the spy hole, and was surprised when he saw Obi-Wan behind the door.

"Obi-Wan," he murmured, after he opened the door, looking at the soaked man. "What are you doing here?"

"I need coffee."

Mace closed the door behind Obi-Wan, and walked towards the kitchen. This promised to be bad. "What happened?"

"Dooku." Obi-Wan leaned against the kitchen's table, trying to comb his wet hair. "He's been watching me, and he has an strange interest in the case. I think he knows something."

Mace turned the coffee maker on, facing Obi-Wan then. "How bad?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "As far as I know, he could be bluffing, but this behaviour is unusual. I don't know what to think."

"He mi-"

"Obi!" Quinlan jumped Obi-Wan, trapping him between his arms before he could protest. "You're wet."

"Ugh, Quin, I can't breathe."

Quinlan let go of Obi-Wan, cleaning then his now wet arms. "You're so cold to me."

"Quinlan," stressed Mace, putting his hand to his forehead, "why are you wearing my t-shirt?"

"Well, I'm running out of clothes, Macey."

"And why don't you go back home?"

"I'm hurt! Would you leave me alone and vulnerable?"

"You're not vulnerable, and you're not hurt anymore!"

"Actually," murmured Obi-Wan, getting the attention of both of them, "we don't know if Quinlan is in danger or not, so it would be better if he stayed with you for a few days." Quinlan smiled widely, and Mace offered him a look that could kill. "And don't go out much."

"Yes, sir!" Quinlan saluted, and Obi-Wan chuckled.

"What time is it?" asked Obi-Wan suddenly.

"Midnight," answered Quinlan. "Do you have a hot date with your kid?"

"I…" Obi-Wan sighed. "I just have to fix something; I better go."

"I'll walk you out," offered Mace.

Mace walked with Obi-Wan towards the door, offering him an annoyed look while Obi-Wan put on his wet coat. Obi-Wan preferred to ignore the look, until Mace's left eyebrow started to twitch.

"Is there something wrong, Mace?"

"He's going to drive me nuts, Obi-Wan. He's going to kill me, or I'm going to kill him. He can't stay here, he can't b-"

Obi-Wan chuckled when Quinlan gave him the thumbs up from the living room. "Come on, you know I'm right."

"And why can't he stay with you?"

"Because he wants to stay with you."

Mace raised both arms, repressing a scream. "Great, just great. And what am I supposed to do?"

"Relax." Obi-Wan nodded, straightening the collar of his coat, to protect himself from the night's cold air. "Or you can sleep with him, I bet that will relax you both."

"You know? You shouldn't spend so much time with him, he's a bad influence on you."

* * *

"I'm fine, I promise," murmured Anakin against the phone. "You reall-"

_"But Aayla said that-"_

"Padmé, I promise you I'm fine." Apparently, Aayla had phoned his most loyal friend, and Padmé, having that monstrous tendency of worrying too much, had ran to the closest phone.

_"Are you sure? You're not playing the big, strong macho, are you? Are you sure you don't want me to go?"_

"Positive. Don't you have some meeting to attend, or some law to vote?"

_"Anakin Skywalker, are you saying that I work too much?"_

Anakin laughed against the phone. "You could use a vacation; we haven't seen each other in ages."

_"A couple of weeks, Anakin."_

"Ages to me, you know I can't live without you." This time, it was Padmé's turn to laugh. "I'm telling the truth."

_"Do you want to meet this weekend?"_

"I don't want to interfere with your political business. You have an election to win, you know?"

_"You know I always have time for you, Ani."_

Anakin groaned, but decided not to remind Padmé how much he hated that nickname. "How emotive."

_"Don't mock me, or I won't give you any privileges once I win."_

"Blackmail, coercion and influences. I'm surprised, senator." Anakin chuckled, and so did Padmé on the other side. "Perhaps you sho–" He stopped his words when he heard the doorbell ringing. He looked at the big round watch he kept on his kitchen wall, and then lowered his eyes. "Someone's at the door."

_"This late? Don't open."_

"It might be a neighbour."

_"Anakin, don't open."_

"I have to." The doorbell rang again, and Anakin walked towards the door. "I better hung up."

_"Ani, don't–"_

"I will look through the spy hole, I promise. Call me, and take care." Not allowing Padmé time to protest, he hung up, and then got closer to the door.

And oh, surprise, Obi-Wan. Wet, and too cute to deny him anything. Anakin moved away from the door, and bit his lower lip, breathing deeply before opening it.

"Before you say anything," started Obi-Wan, the moment Anakin opened the door, "I want you to have in mind that I had to risk my life to get here." Anakin arched and eyebrow, but Obi-Wan nodded, serious. "I though Aayla might tell me how to get to your apartment, and let's just say that she is very good at threatening people."

Anakin smiled, and all his face seemed to illuminate. Bright mouth and eyes, and Obi-Wan had to stop to look at him before speaking again. Anakin was wearing wide pants and t-shirt, and his hair was all ruffled around his face. Adorable.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," said Obi-Wan.

"Did you bring something to bribe me with?" Anakin pointed at the plastic bag Obi-Wan had forgotten he was carrying, and Obi-Wan nodded.

"Cheesecake."

"Oh, you're good." Anakin grasped the front of Obi-Wan's shirt, and pulled him inside the house, closing the door behind him. "I can't say no to cheesecake."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"No, you're not allowed to do this again, because I get depressed, and it's very annoying for everyone around me."

"Anakin, I'm so sorry I–"

Anakin stopped him by cupping his face with both hands, and smiling widely. "Kidding," he whispered, getting his face closer to Obi-Wan's. "I think you're even more paranoid than I am."

And finally, he closed the distance that separated them. The bag that contained the cheesecake fell to the floor the moment Obi-Wan decided Anakin's waist was something much better to clutch, and Anakin seemed to agree. His own hands went from Obi-Wan's face to his shoulders, insinuating a tingle on Obi-Wan's neck. Obi-Wan's lips parted for Anakin's, and Obi-Wan decided that he had acted like an idiot, because at this moment he couldn't think of something better than Anakin's lips caressing his, and their tongues meeting in neutral ground, curious and soft.

The first kisses were always special, different, mischievous and sweet. Obi-Wan was feeling like a teenager, clutching Anakin and kissing him as if there was no tomorrow. It had been too long since he had done this like this, slow, sensual and passionate, almost abrasive.

"Right," murmured Anakin when they separated, blinking a couple of times before he found his voice. "Cheesecake… I'll get spoons."


	7. Chapter 7

I'm so terribly sorry that this has taken this long. I don't usually take so much time between chapters, but I can't quite post a chapter that doesn't make me happy, either. So, if you're still interested in this, here it is!

hugs you all

Monchy

------------------------------------------

_Chapter VII_

Anakin woke up with someone else's smell next to him, and even before he opened his eyes, he grazed his lips with the smile that would adorn his face for the rest of the day. He buried his face in the mattress and hugged his pillow, fighting the beginning of the day for a few more minutes. He could hear Obi-Wan's voice on the other side of the door, and he decided to allow himself a little bit more of happy fantasizing. He felt as if he was living inside a fairy tale, and thinking about it made him feel stupid for acting as a fifteen year old girl.

Obi-Wan had spent the night there, _sleeping _next to him, after the cheesecake had been finished between laughter and chatting. Obi-Wan had wanted to leave, but Anakin had insisted on this neighborhood being too dangerous during the night; Obi-Wan had wanted to sleep on the sofa, but Anakin had insisted on the fact that his bed was so big, and he was such a tiny person. Anakin liked to cuddle in his sleep, and Obi-Wan was possibly the most huggable person he had ever met, fitting just so perfectly inside his embrace.

He stretched his arms and tried to do a happy dance under the covers, thanking whoever was watching for him up there. Anakin hadn't been too lucky when it came to personal relationships, going from disillusions to cheating all too easily, but Obi-Wan seemed all kinds of perfect so far.

Finally, Anakin decided that it was the moment to say good morning to the day and, with a swift jump, he got up from the bed, letting the white sheets fall carelessly on the wooden floor. While he scratched his head unconsciously, he half closed his eyes and looked at the city through the big window that covered one of the walls in his room. It wasn't raining, but the grey clouds promised that it would. Great.

Anakin didn't bother with a shirt, and walked through the door and into the living room, both arms falling down his sides, his expression sleepy and his hair sticking up. Someone had told him once that it was his most adorable look, and Anakin had decided, a long time ago, to believe those kinds of comments. He looked towards the kitchen, where Obi-Wan said something close to 'he did what?' to his cell phone, while his right hand caressed Anakin's white cat, who purred dreamily. Anakin smiled, and Obi-Wan did too, once he hung up and saw him.

"Is everything ok?" asked Anakin, pointing distractedly at the black phone that now rested on Obi-Wan's left hand.

"I have to leave. I'm sorry, but I have to stop someone from killing himself." Anakin arched an eyebrow, but he preferred not to ask when Obi-Wan shook his head. "I made some breakfast. I… I'll call you later?"

Anakin smiled, nodding. "Sure."

Obi-Wan returned him a shiny smile, and Anakin started wondering why exactly had he taken so long to talk to him. Before Obi-Wan could ran away towards the door, Anakin clutched his arms and brought him closer to him, surrounding his waist with a firm arm. He descended his lips upon Obi-Wan's, caressing them with his own until Obi-Wan held his shoulders and opened his mouth for him, meeting his tongue half-way.

Obi-Wan left the apartment with an honest smile between his lips, forcing Anakin to bite his lip not to sigh like a teenage girl. He dropped his arms again and sat by the kitchen's table, where Obi-Wan had left a full breakfast.

"I do believe he just deflowered my kitchen," he murmured to himself, caressing Yoda's white fur, which had the cat rubbing his cold nose against his wrist. "You like him, don't you?" The cat purred, turning around inquisitively for a while, and then laying next to Anakin's arm, who caressed the space between his tiny ears. "Yes, I like him, too."

----------------------------------------------------------

The building was tall and grey, like a giant with one eye rising above the rest of the city, announcing constant vigilance over its citizens. Quinlan liked to say that it was a bit like Sauron, a huge eye which saw it all, and through his twisted logic, he was right. The highest floor held Palpatine's offices, from where he lead his campaign, and the rest of the building was filled by his many services, including his private police force, which situated Dooku's office right where Palpatine's was, one floor down.

Quinlan, being… well, Quinlan, had decided that if Dooku had something up his sleeve, an illegal search of his office was in order, and so, he had proceeded. Obi-Wan didn't want to know _how_ Quinlan had gotten inside, if he had managed to do it, or if he had gotten himself arrested on the way, but Mace's hysterical screaming on the phone had taken him there. He considered his options, deciding to go through the most legal way, expecting Quinlan hadn't gotten himself in trouble yet.

He crossed the street, raising the neck of his coat in a futile attempt to cover himself from the insisting rain, and took refuge under the building's doors, taking advantage of a huge group to make his entrance invisible. Obi-Wan had been there too many times already, and his face was too well known; the fewer people that saw him, the better. God, he was going to kill Quinlan, if he got out of this alive. As every big office building, the waiting for the elevator was eternal, but the mass of people that entered it next to Obi-Wan gave him the necessary camouflage.

Once he was in the place he needed to be, Obi-Wan walked towards Dooku's secretary: a woman with a huge smile, and an even bigger cleavage. He offered her his most natural smile, after trying uselessly to imitate that half grin Quinlan used when he wanted to get something. The curve of his own lips seemed to be enough to convince the woman that Obi-Wan was to be treated nicely, though. The discussion that followed was short and direct, but enough to convince the woman that there was no better place for Obi-Wan to wait for Dooku than his own empty office. Obi-Wan smiled at her once more, and entered the place.

The first thing Obi-Wan felt when entering the office was the canon of a gun against his temple, but that didn't evoke any sort of reaction from him. "Quinlan."

"Obi!" Quinlan moved the gun away, and gifted him with a huge smile when he looked at him with severe eyes. He put the gun away, and changed his expression for an innocent one, even when he knew it wouldn't do a thing for Obi-Wan.

"Have you lost you mind?" Obi-Wan looked away and around the room with calculating eyes, stopping then on the open window. He saw Quinlan shrug through the corner of his eyes while he walked towards said window.

Quinlan walked next to him, keeping one eye on the door. "Maybe just a small part, although there aren't any clinical proofs so far."

"You must at least have suicidal inclinations," murmured Obi-Wan, looking at the window and down to the street. "Did you climb up those pipes?"

"From the floor directly under us; I did the rest on the elevator, as civilized people do." Quinlan leaned against the wall, shrugging again when Obi-Wan gave him an accusatory look. "But I got something."

"There's no time for that now." Obi-Wan raised his arms up, exasperated. "You're going to have to go out the same way. I'll see you at the back of the building in ten minutes, and then we'll go to see Mace."

"Ok, boss."

Avoiding the secretary on his way out was as easy as convincing her to let him in, and before he could realize it, Obi-Wan was inside the elevator of a very different building, going up to see Mace next to Quinlan, whose face wasn't capable of erasing a self-satisfied smile. Obi-Wan made one last attempt at glaring at him, but when Quinlan gave him a wet kiss on the cheek, and announced him that he loved it when he worried about him, Obi-Wan had to chuckle.

Mace… Mace was a completely different business.

"Is it necessary that I explain you the irresponsibility and risk of your acts?" Mace crossed his arms over his chest, leaving the folders Quinlan had brought him on his desk. "Why do I even bother? You won't listen to a word I say, will you?"

Obi-Wan sat in front of Mace and next to Quinlan, crossing his ankles in front if him, and shrugging of his wet coat. "Calm down, Ma–"

"And don't you dare defend him." Mace pointed an accusing finger at his face, frowning. "This is serious. Dooku already has a grip on our necks as it is, for us to go and play with his patience."

"We can always ask the senator for support here," murmured Obi-Wan. "It's risky, but if there's something inside that folder that might help us, maybe it was worth it."

"I don't think the senator would agree to these methods."

"Don't tell her how you got them, then!" exclaimed Quinlan, leaning forward and resting both elbows on the grey table. "Ask 'Nara to talk to her, she will convince her."

"How? By ripping her head out? I don't think Luminara is the best choice here," scowled Mace, throwing a pencil at Obi-Wan when he chuckled.

"Of course she is. You know that all there is there is just sexual tension."

This time Obi-Wan laughed openly, playing with the pencil between nervous fingers. "Is sexual tension your explanation for everything?"

Quinlan smiled, and Obi-Wan regretted his question the moment he did. "Of course." Quinlan nodded, convinced. "Take Mace here, for example," he started, grasping Mace's fingers between his own, before he could move them away. "He clearly needs to relax, and what better way than–"

"If you dare finish that sentence, I'll kick you out of my house."

Quinlan pouted, offended, but leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're so cruel to me."

"Oh yes, a real ogre."

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Obi-Wan, why don't you leave? You've working on that for hours." Mace sat across Obi-Wan, who had been working for hours, reading documents and more documents that had come out Dooku's office, classifying them, and trying to get something from them. Quinlan had left an hour ago with Luminara, and Mace had just stayed to close some last hour files.

Obi-Wan looked up, and rubbed his eyes under his black-framed glasses. "There's still a lot to do."

"You better finish tomorrow. Take it home if you want to."

"Maybe later."

Mace sighed, shrugging. "Alright, but close when you leave. I better go home before Quinlan manages to burn the place."

Obi-Wan laughed, nodding. "He's just trying to be nice; let him."

"Sure. Of course." Mace sighed. "See you tomorrow."

"Goodbye."

Obi-Wan watched Mace walk away, and returned his eyes to the papers in front of him, ignoring how lonely his figure looked under the low lamp light. He was tired, but the truth was that there was something interesting there, even if he hadn't connected it just yet. Nevertheless, it was clear that Dooku seemed to know a lot more than they did, even when he had no extra clues. This was becoming more dark every day that passed, and Obi-Wan was annoyed at not being able to pinpoint exactly why.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes again, and sat back on the chair. In a weird impulse, he clutched the phone and dialed.

"_Hello?" _Anakin's voice sounded sleepy on the other side, and Obi-Wan was forced to look at the big clock that hanged in one of the walls for an instant.

"Hey, it's me."

"_Hey… you sound tired."_

Obi-Wan fought himself not to rub his eyes again, and nodded, realizing then that Anakin couldn't see him. "There's this case that has me working late these days."

"_A case?"_ Anakin's voice had become more awake, and Obi-Wan smiled against the phone. Anakin had a nice voice. _"I thought you didn't do that anymore."_

"I don't, but this is a favor." The other side stayed silent then, and Obi-Wan could picture Anakin biting his lower lip insistently. "I know it's late, but perhaps you might consider… I don't know, would you like to take a walk?"

"_Yes, of course!"_

"I'll meet you at your place in half an hour?"

-------------------------------------------------------

"Where are we going?" Obi-Wan let Anakin drag him, even when he got no answer. They had been walking for ten minutes, but Anakin hadn't said a word, leading Obi-Wan by the hand, and going to some mysterious place with the only promise that 'you will like it'.

And, indeed, Obi-Wan liked it. After walking down what seemed like millions of grey streets, Anakin went through a small gate that took them, through a dirt path, to a huge garden filled with gigantic trees and flowers of different types, shining brightly among the bushes. There were a few couple here and there, and a group of friends sharing a drink, but it was still pretty empty.

"A garden?" murmured Obi-Wan, incredulous, still being dragged by Anakin's insistent hand. "In this city?"

Anakin finally stopped, turning around and taking Obi-Wan's second hand in his own, wearing a smile between his lips. "I found it a while ago," he explained, pulling him until they reached a huge tree and then sitting close to it, bringing Obi-Wan with him. "It's my favorite place in the city."

"I didn't think these existed anymore." Obi-Wan kneeled in front of Anakin, and then sat back against the huge tree, allowing Anakin to curl on his chest. It was something Anakin did, Obi-Wan had noticed, crouching and curling as close to his body as he could. He put an arm around Anakin's back.

The night was cold, and the tree didn't stop the wind that cut their sensitive skin, but Obi-Wan knew this was one of those moments that he would always remember, one of the few images that his mind would evoke in harder times. He let his gaze wander down Anakin's face, whose blue eyes were fixed in front of him, perhaps in one of the raindrops that fell down a rose's petal.

He moved a lock of hair away from his face, dragging his attention to him, and let one of his fingers caress the scar that cut Anakin's right eye. "How did you get this?"

"You want the truth? Or a lie?"

Obi-Wan smiled, keeping a soft finger on Anakin's cold cheek. "Maybe both."

"Maybe… maybe I had a car accident," offered Anakin, sitting up straight, and kissing Obi-Wan's fingertip. "Or perhaps I got bit by a swan."

"A swan?" Obi-Wan let his fingers glide down to Anakin's lip, caressing the lower one when they parted instinctively.

"A big, scary swan."

"Of course."

Obi-Wan smiled and descended his fingers until they reached the collar of Anakin's shirt, pulling him until their lips met midway. Obi-Wan had had a lot of one-night stands since Qui-Gon, but he had never allowed himself to enjoy the simple pleasure of kissing someone, of licking another pair of lips and getting lost inside such an easy and perfect sensation, like the one Anakin's mouth evoked. He felt Anakin move between his arms, and clutched his waist when he straddled his thighs, holding himself by grasping his shoulders.

Anakin separated from him for a few seconds, enough to catch his breath and kiss him again. The kiss was slow, almost languid, all tongues curling between both mouths, fighting from side to side with no intention of winning. Obi-Wan slid his hand above the fabric of Anakin's jeans until he found the edge of his shirt, and caressed the small of Anakin's back with the palm of his hand. Anakin got closer to him, sitting more comfortably, and smiling against his mouth.

Anakin descended from Obi-Wan's lip to his neck, licking his way up to the back of his ear. "Can I ask you something?" he said, panting, and biting the soft lobe.

"Why do I feel it's going to be a tricky question?"

Anakin smiled against his neck, and then separated his face from his neck, so he could look at his eyes. "Why did you say no that first night? At the bar."

Obi-Wan sighed, dropping his head against the tree. Anakin blinked a couple of times, putting both hands to Obi-Wan's neck and caressing his collarbone. "I… well, it's just that it's been a long time since I do this," whispered Obi-Wan, returning his eyes to Anakin's, who was looking at him with a confused pout.

"This? But you look like the kind of man who would be married and with children." Anakin bumped his nose against Obi-Wan's, leaning back again. "Which you aren't, right?"

"Of course not, Anakin."

"Sorry; I've had some bad experiences."

Obi-Wan nodded, and stayed silent. Anakin smiled softly, and leaned his head on Obi-Wan's shoulder, kissing the skin he could reach, and caressing the other side of his neck with a firm thumb. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, breathing slowly, and shivering when Anakin started sucking softly on his neck. That was going to leave a mark. He smiled a little, moving his hand on Anakin's back, and very close to purring.

"There was someone," he confessed suddenly, holding Anakin's waist with one arm and getting him even closer. "Someone important."

Anakin licked one more time the spot of is neck that now looked red, and lifted his face. His lips were reddened and his eyes half closed, giving him a younger aspect. "What happened?"

"He died."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He pressed his lips together, clutching Obi-Wan's shoulder stronger, and looking away."

"It was a long time ago."

"You don't have to tell me about it."

"Maybe… maybe some other time."

Anakin nodded, burying his face between Obi-Wan's neck and the fabric of his white shirt. He breathed his scent in, closing his eyes and sifting slightly. A warm hand on the back of his neck, another one caressing the small of his back, and Anakin was shivering involuntarily. He looked up, searching blindly for the pair of lips that found his easily, and accepted the inquisitive tongue that curled around his own.

"I really like you, Obi-Wan," he murmured against lips that were searching for his again, licking his own and finding soft skin. He bit Obi-Wan's upper lip, and then let himself be guided into a deeper kiss, moaning and clutching a piece of white fabric. "Will you stay tonight? At home?"

Obi-Wan just nodded, playing with the soft curls on Anakin's scalp. "If you want me to."

Anakin kissed him again, moving his fingers to the point in which his shirt opened, and arching his back. He breathed slowly, not letting Obi-Wan's lips get away, but not quite kissing them, just teasing Obi-Wan's searching tongue. "Well, my cat kind of misses you."

"Your cat, huh?"

"Yeah. He likes you, too."


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks a lot to all of you for your reviews!

* * *

_Chapter VIII_

"Fancy enough?" Anakin extended both arms, turning around slowly, and hitting then the floor with his very shiny black shoes.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, taking his hands and pulling from him until they were both inside the car. Obi-Wan didn't trust the chauffer not to get tired and leave them there. When Obi-Wan had talked with Anakin about the possibility of taking him to the annual ball of the Police Department, and after mentioning how very boring it could be, he hadn't expected Anakin to be so excited about it, and to rant for hours about the fancy suit he never got to wear.

Anakin unbuttoned one of the buttons of his black jacket, getting more comfortable against the door, and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked at Obi-Wan, and pouted. "Shouldn't you tell me how incredibly gorgeous I look, how you had never seen anyone as beautiful as me, how I'm the living image of Adonis?"

"That's a little bit melodramatic." Obi-Wan smiled, raising an eyebrow almost unconsciously. Anakin kept his pout in his lips, and produced an offended 'hmmmph'. "You look great."

"Thank you." Anakin got closer to Obi-Wan, entwined their fingers over his own leg and kissed his cheek. "I only get to wear this when it's Padmé's birthday, and–"

"Padmé?"

Anakin smiled, kissing the frown between Obi-Wan's eyebrows, and sliding through the leather seat until he was as close as he could be to him. "An old friend of mine. It's… a long story." He sighed, lowering his lips to Obi-Wan's cheek, kissing the soft skin, and trailing down to his ear.

Obi-Wan put his arm around Anakin's waist, closing his fist around the white fabric of his shirt. "Tell me about it. I know almost nothing about you, you realize? You could be a psycho for all I know."

"I'm not the one who stalks young, sexy dancers in filthy looking bars."

"That. Was a cheap shot."

Anakin laughed against Obi-Wan's ear, sliding his fingers down the bridge of his nose, until Obi-Wan caught his thumb between his lips and bit it slightly, kissing then Anakin's exposed neck.

"You don't come so much anymore," whispered Anakin, arching unconsciously towards Obi-Wan's body, while biting his earlobe. "Now I actually notice all those pervs looking at me."

"This case has been keeping me busy–" murmured Obi-Wan, biting his Adam's apple. "I'll go tomorrow, alright?"

"Ok." Anakin moved his face blindly until his nose bumped against Obi-Wan's, and then looked for his lips, kissing them softly and letting Obi-Wan chase the kiss later. A short kiss, one on the corner of his lips, another one on his cheek, behind his ear, and Obi-Wan was hiding again against his neck, licking his pulse point.

"You're a terrible distraction, did you know? You own me a talk, but we're here now."

* * *

"Could this party get any more boring?" Quinlan crossed his arms over his chest, pouting involuntarily. He swayed from side to side, surveying the room around him. It was filled with people talking in small, closed groups, and just thinking about what they might be talking about made Quinlan take a ship of his cheap champagne. That was probably why people at these things usually found him rude. 

Obi-Wan sat next to him in the big, round table he had commandeered, being immediately followed by Anakin. "It's just like every year; you should be used to it."

"I thought they might have decided to hire some exotic dancers this year, or something." Quinlan sighed exaggeratedly, and left his glass on the table. He leaned forward then, letting his eyes move from Obi-Wan to Anakin, and smiled widely. "Anakin, right?" He looked back at Obi-Wan. "We have never been introduced formally."

Anakin shook the hand Quinlan offered him, smiling. "Aayla's stalker, I'm guessing. I'm disappointed you let her go."

"Funny. I like that. By the way, speaking of exotic dan–" Quinlan stopped talking when Obi-Wan's foot fell on his. Hard. "That was completely unnecessary," he said through gritted teeth.

Obi-Wan smiled a little, pressing Anakin's hand under the table. The room was filled with people, just as every other year, and even if the ball was boring and pointless for most, a lot others knew that it was the best place to plot. Everyone who was someone in the city was there, but it was not a meeting, a debate, or a press conference, but a room filled with soft music, little food, and too much cheap alcohol.

"Where is Mace?" asked Obi-Wan, looking at Quinlan, who was studying the room, probably looking for a dance partner. Last year, he had ended up dancing with Senator Amidala, who had been talking about the pain in her feet for a month.

Quinlan pointed at a small group, where Mace chatted – or at least listened to – with some people. "In the lion cage." Indeed, the group couldn't have a better name than that. Palpatine, Dooku, Amidala, Mace and Luminara were there, although the last one seemed more interested in glaring at the Senator than any other thing.

Obi-Wan sat back on the chair, offering Mace a smile and a shrug when their eyes met. "Should I take him out of there?"

"No, he's having fun. Maybe you should get 'Nara out of there, though, before she decides to rip the Senator's head off." Obi-Wan laughed, but Quinlan nodded. "Really, the show would loose so much with no mud included in it, don't you think?"

Obi-Wan started to roll his eyes, but he stopped when Anakin's soft laugh echoed next to him. Both he and Quinlan looked at him, questioningly. "Padmé always tells me that all that is some kind of old university rivalry, but I've always thought it's just sexual tension."

"Thank you!" exclaimed Quinlan. "Someone who underst–wait a second there, you know the Senator?"

"When you talked about Padmé, your old friend, you were talking about Senator Amidala?"

Anakin nodded, smiling, and that was the exact moment the Senator chose to notice them in the multitude, almost as if she had been hearing their conversation. Obi-Wan watched her lean forward, half-closing her brown eyes and moving a few curls away from her face, and suddenly, a huge smile appeared between her lips, and she waved. At Anakin. Obi-Wan looked at Quinlan, then at Anakin, and then back at the Senator, who was walking towards them now. Nevertheless, before she could reach them, Anakin stood up, and hugged her tightly after almost running towards her.

Quinlan whistled, smiled, and leaned back. He took the abandoned glass with agile fingers, and put his other hand to his tied hair. "Your kid's full of surprises."

* * *

After getting nothing more than rejections from the Senator, Luminara, Obi-Wan, Mace, Kit, Aayla, the rest of the police corps, and a dentist's wife who had nearly passed out, Quinlan had sat, frustrated, and had offered his glass a pout. Maybe _it_ wanted to dance with him.

"Dance with me," he asked Obi-Wan one last time, making his eyebrow raise elegantly.

"I'm not going to dance with you, Quinlan."

"Why not? You should know I'm an excellent dancer. Besides, I'm bored."

"And who isn't?" asked Luminara, crossing her legs under her terribly uncomfortable dress and staring at her nails. "Every year we come, expecting this to be at least as bad as the last year, and every year it get worse."

"So dance with me!"

"Last time I danced with you, my feet hurt for a week, Quinlan. Dance with Mace."

Quinlan smiled at him widely, but Mace just offered him a severe expression, which left no place for hopeful petitions. "Anakin!" Quinlan exclaimed suddenly. "Dance with me." He extended both arms towards Anakin, keeping the huge smile between his lips.

Anakin laughed, shrugging. "Yes, sure."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Obi-Wan wasn't very sure how Anakin dancing with Quinlan had evolved into him dancing with Anakin. It was true that the people in the room where already too drunk to care about men dancing together, but Obi-Wan was starting to think that Anakin made him act far too spontaneously. It was also true, though, that the party seemed much more interesting now.

Quinlan hit Mace's arm with his elbow, grabbing his attention. When Mace turned around towards him, Quinlan had already become a part of his personal space, and was smiling in a way that made his teeth shine as if he was the Cheshire cat. Mace didn't move back, though, choosing to ignore the smile Luminara was surely wearing by now. He wasn't very sure why everyone seemed to support Quinlan in his questionable seduction plans.

"What?" he asked finally, seeing how Quinlan wasn't saying a word.

"Do you see that? Our baby," he whispered, pointing at Obi-Wan and Anakin. "They grow up so fast. And now he's in love."

"It's a bit too soon for that, don't you think?"

"It's never too soon, Macey. Trust me on this one."

"Quinlan, are you trying to te–" Mace stopped talking when his cell phone started ringing and vibrating insistently inside his left pocket. Apologizing to the table, he walked a few steps away and took the call, returning only a few minutes later. "We need to go; there's been another murder."

* * *

Mace, as head chief of the Police Department, found the city more frustrating every day that passed. He was conscious that he couldn't possibly take care of every single citizen, especially when most of them were bounty hunters, whores or killers, but he guessed that the random killing of young men was too much for him. He was tired, but he had to keep working, because he didn't have a clue. He had the best people working on this; the united forces of Obi-Wan, Quinlan and Luminara had proved to be infallible in numerous occasions, but even they weren't getting any results.

He buried his face between his hands and rubbed his eyes. He had been trying to see something he hadn't seen before for hours, but how much longer could he stare at pictures of mutilated young bodies? At least he wasn't alone. Obi-Wan had been completely immersed in this for the past couple of days as well, although Mace wasn't too sure about what he was doing. After going to the warehouse where the last body had been found, a little light bulb had seemed to appear on top of Obi-Wan's head, and he had spent the last few days asking for archives of old cases, and studying the documents Quinlan had "borrowed" from Dooku's office. Mace hoped he was onto something.

Quinlan had disappeared a few hours ago, supposedly in the search of his doubtful sources, even when he insisted on the fact that not even people on the streets where discussing this. It seemed that they were in deep waters, and unable to get out.

Mace groaned, resting his head against the couch, and looking at the white ceiling. There was a greyish stain that was threatening with dripping, if only it kept raining like it had been for the past few weeks. He would have to fix that. Before he started to sigh, he heard the front door opening, and Quinlan's voice giving a hello to the silent apartment. Ungh, he was too tired to talk to Quinlan.

"Hello, Macey. Ugh, you look awful."

Mace shifted his gaze from the ceiling to Quinlan when he felt the couch sinking next to him, and before he could smile his million dollar smile, Mace got closer to him, trapped his head between his hands, and kissed the lips that were beginning to curve into a smirk. He was tired of fighting _everything.

* * *

_

_"I slept with Quinlan."_

When Obi-Wan had answered the phone, grateful for even a few minutes of rest, he hadn't been expecting _that_. At all. "Mace?"

_"Did you listen to what I said? I slept with Quinlan!"_

Obi-Wan could almost see the picture: Mace pacing, one hand holding the telephone, the other one on the back of his neck. "Were you drunk?"

_"… no."_

"Did you… well, did you like it?"

_"… yes."_

_"_Then I just don't see the problem here, Mace."

Apparently, that wasn't the answer Mace had been expecting, if his next affirmation was clue enough. "_This is Quinlan were talking about, Obi-Wan!"_

"Mace, listen to me. Relax, breathe, go cuddle him or something, and you can freak out tomorrow when we meet, yes?"

_"But–"_

"I have a call on the other line, Mace. I have to go."

Obi-Wan smiled a little, shaking his head. Quinlan _always_ got what he wanted. He held the phone on his right hand, letting it ring a couple of times while walking towards the window. He moved the curtain away and looked at the wet street, letting his eyes wander towards the black car that had been parked there for a week now. It seemed that Dooku was still keeping him under vigilance, although if the theory Obi-Wan had was actually true, he had reasons to have a pair of eyes in every corner of the city. Any case, there was still a lot of work to do.

The phone rang one more time, and this time Obi-Wan answered it.

"Hello?"

_"Well, hello there, stranger."_

Obi-Wan didn't even try to stop the smile that crossed his lips. Anakin sounded tired, as if he had just woken up, and his low, hoarse tone of voice made him shiver. "I'm sorry, I know I've been unreachable for the past couple of days."

_"You should be ashamed of yourself."_

"Will you let me make it up to you?"

Anakin laughed on the other side, slow and soft. _"I guess you could take me to a fancy restaurant, or something."_

"Any time." Obi-Wan let the curtain fall back on its place, covering the dark night outside, and walked back towards the sofa, sitting heavily on it. "You have a lot of things to tell me."

_"Do I?"_

"About your old friend Padmé?"

_"It's a boring story."_

Obi-Wan smiled, imagining the pout between Anakin's lips. "Tell me about it," he insisted, slouching a little on the sofa.

_"I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you the story of my life, and you'll tell me what you're wearing."_

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, putting a hand to his hair unconsciously. "Those don't look like very fair terms, but I'll accept them."

"_Ok then. You see, my father left when I was little, so mom was forced to get a job." _Anakin stopped for a few seconds, and Obi-Wan could almost see him biting his thumb. _"So, she got a job working in Padmé's house, for her father. She was in charge of the kitchens, or something like that, which wasn't much, but enough… until she died."_

They both stayed silent then. Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, nodding and half-closing his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, finally.

_"It was a long time ago," _Anakin said, his voice husky. He continued almost immediately. _"Padmé´s father decided to take care of me then. He made sure I went to the best schools, and that I got a scholarship for the university. He even offered me a job when I turned eighteen, but I decided to… well, try to look for my own lifestyle."_

"So you grew up with the Senator." The line was silent again, and Obi-Wan knew that Anakin was nodding, unconscious of his own movements.

_"Yes," _he answered finally. "_She's my family."_

"You're full of surprises, did you know?"

Anakin laughed, openly this time, and Obi-Wan smiled. _"So, what are you wearing?"_

"I really don't see the point in this, but alright. Black trousers, black shoes, a white long-sleeved shirt, and a black tie."

_"I can't believe you're wearing shoes and a tie at home! There's no one looking, you know?"_

"Oh, well, what are _you_ wearing, then?"

_"Well, I just got out from the shower, so just a towel." _Obi-Wan swallowed hard, and Anakin laughed on the other side. He was trying to kill him or something, acting as a wet dream come true. _"Take off the shoes and the tie, yes?"_

"Oh no, we're not doing this."

_"Why not?"_

Obi-Wan touched his own face, covering his red cheeks, and then realizing that Anakin wasn't watching. "Because… because we aren't doing this."

_"What? Having sex?"_

Obi-Wan sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Anakin was definitely trying to kill him. "It's not… it's not like it is a conscious decision. Taking this slow, I mean. It's just that–"

"_Things are falling into place. I know. I like that, but I don't see why _this _should embarrass you."_

"Because… I don't know, Anakin." Obi-Wan sighed again, letting his glasses drop on the table and leaning back on the sofa.

_"What was that noise?"_

"Oh, I just took off my glasses, but the thing is–"

"_Glasses? You hadn't mentioned the glasses."_

"They're just… glasses."

"_Oh no, Obi-Wan. I have wet dream about those glasses. Probably all the university has wet dreams about those glasses." _Obi-Wan just grunted softly, expecting Anakin not to hear it. "_Put them back on, yes? And take off the shoes and the tie."_

Obi-Wan shook his head, feeling beaten. "I don't know why I'm letting you talk me into this."

"_Because you want to be talked into it." _Obi-Wan felt Anakin's smile through the phone. _"Hold on a sec, yes?"_

"Mmm, sure." Obi-Wan dropped the phone, exhaled slowly, and started untying his shoes, which he left close to the sofa once they were off. He got rid of his tie then, left it on the table, and put on his glasses. "Anakin?"

"_I'm here. I turned on the radio. 97.9. Background music?"_

"Yes, sure." Obi-Wan stood up and turned on the radio on the chosen station. "How romantic," he murmured, when soft classical music filled the room.

"_Ok. Where are you? Can you… lie down? Bed, or sofa or–"_

"Sofa." Obi-Wan nodded, lying down on the couch, and leaning his head on a cushion. "Why do I feel like a clumsy teenager?"

Anakin laughed, and Obi-Wan relaxed immediately with the soft sound against his ear. "_Can you… can you, umm, unbutton your shirt? Slowly. _God, _I would rip it off, but… I guess you are more patient?"_

Obi-Wan smiled, unbuttoning his shirt, and caressing the skin he freed with slightly trembling fingers. "Were you serious when you were talking about that towel of yours?"

"_Completely." _Anakin's voice was lower now, a little bit breathless. "_Do you want me to take it off?"_

"Yes, I do." Obi-Wan exhaled, finally opening his shirt and letting his own fingers wander down his chest and around his navel, with an expertise learned from a lot of lonely nights. He heard Anakin swallow on the other side, and then the sound of fabric against fabric, and of something falling on the floor. "Are you… are you on your bed?"

"_Hmm."_

Obi-Wan bit his lip, closing his eyes so his imagination conjured what his eyes weren't seeing.

"_I know…"_ Anakin stopped to breathe for a second, and continued._ "I know there's a scar on your left shoulder, small and round. Is there… is there any other?"_

"That one is from a bullet. There is a another one, on my hip. It's a little cut from the first time I rode a bike."

"_Does it go inside your pants?"_

"Yes."

"_I would like to lick that."_

"God." Obi-Wan slid a little bit more along the sofa, lifting his hips almost unconsciously.

"_I've got… a tattoo. A little sun–"_

"Next to your navel, I know."

Anakin laughed on the other side, and all Obi-Wan could do was hide a moan with a sigh. "_I want… I want you to touch yourself for me, and I want you to think about-ab-about-_Jesus_ about _my hands_ when you do it."_

Obi-Wan didn't hide the moan this time, while he lowered his hands to his pants and unbuttoned them, opening then the zipper. He heard Anakin groan, and he bit his lip when his hand reached his erection. "Your hands are bigger than mine," he whispered.

"_Yes, but yours are prettier. They're the second most important part of my wet dreams… are you still wearing your glasses?"_

"Yes." Obi-Wan opened his eyes then, letting his hands slide up and down slowly. "Are you… are you…

"_Yes. Yes, yes, yes… I don't sound so coherent anymore."_

"Keep talking, please." Obi-Wan swallowed hard, bit his lip again when Anakin moaned. "Tell me how you want me to–"

"_Slowly, but not too much, and hard so-to-for-I… I don't have the will to make this tortuous right now… I would like to be there."_

"With me?"

"_With you."_

"I would like that, too." Obi-Wan smiled, his eyes closed and his body arching to an already established rhythm, hearing Anakin on the other side, not talking, but lost in his own concert of gasps, groans, and moans, with some surprised sound, a whole world Obi-Wan wanted to see with his own eyes, and create with his own hands.

He felt a sweat drop fall from his neck to chest, and he moved his hand faster unconsciously, breathing hard and heavy, and whispering Anakin's name against the phone, which he was still holding in a firm grip. His eyes were closed so tight that he could almost see Anakin, writhing on the white sheet of his beds, clutching them with nervous fists, one hand around himself, moaning softly, thinking about _him._

"Anakin…" The name left his lips as a soft sigh, when the orgasm hit him and made his whole body tremble and his toes curl, while his own name abandoned Anakin's lips a few seconds later in a low and husky tone.

It took Obi-Wan a few more seconds to gain back his breathing, but when he finally did, he smiled.

"Anakin?"

"_Yes?" _Breathless, low, satisfied.

"You're going to be the death of me, I can tell."

"_I certainly hope so."

* * *

_


End file.
